Seventeen
by smithandbarrowman
Summary: At seventeen, with the world at your feet, one slip up can change the course of your life forever.
1. Chapter 1

My mum was seventeen when I was born.

Seventeen.

The age I am now.

The age I am today.

Can you imagine having a child at seventeen? Because I can't. It's not that I don't ever want to be a mother, I want to have children one day; it's just that seventeen is way too young. I have enough trouble finding socks that match and sometimes I have to be reminded to eat. There is no way I could raise a child.

But my mum did. And since I'm still alive, I think she did a pretty good job.

I sometimes wonder if she wishes she hadn't. If she wishes she'd been more careful, or told my father no, or even if she should have made the decision to not have me. She'd not had the chance to live, not had the chance to be more than just my mum. And from all the stories I've been told, she had so much in front of her, so much talent and potential. She had the world at her feet, she could have been anything she wanted to be. But she gave it all up for me. She chose to be a mother, she chose me.

And every time I asked her about it, she would kiss the top of my head and tell me she wouldn't change a thing. Not one tantrum; not one sleepless night; not one cold or fever; not one anxious or panicked moment; not one single second.

She was just three months shy of her eighteenth birthday when she welcomed me into the world. And if you do the maths on that, you'll realise exactly what she got up to on her seventeenth birthday - a feat, might I add, that on my seventeenth birthday I have no intentions of replicating.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mum; I love her more than anything. She's my entire world, and despite the fact that I was surrounded my entire life with people who have protected me and would die for me, she's really the only family I had.

She wasn't promiscuous or slutty, she didn't sleep around, if that's what you're thinking. She was only ever with one person, that person being my father. The father I never knew, the father who never knew about me. And I'm not embarrassed or ashamed that I exist, or that she was so very young when I was born, (and neither is she) but I watched her struggle, watched her work so hard to provide for me and to make sure I had everything I needed, that sometimes she forgot about herself.

When I think back on it, I don't know how she did it, but she did. But I also know that I never want to have to go through what she went through. Besides, it was never going to happen; my Uncles wouldn't let any boys come near me!

And then there were my grandparents. They were shocked, to say the least when mum came home from school that Christmas and told them she wasn't going back. She didn't know how to tell them, she thought they would be disappointed in her, or angry, or that they would disown her, so she simply blurted it out – told them that she was pregnant and that she was keeping the baby. They were shocked, to say the least, and she said it was the first time she'd seen my grandpa have a drink before noon. But they knew their daughter and were supportive of her decision to keep me.

Of course, it wasn't all joy and delight, they had questions; who my father was, and did he know, and what was he going to do to help. And then they got angry when she refused to tell them anything other than that fact that he didn't know, and she wasn't able to tell him. My grandpa threatened to go to her school and make noise about how they let this happen, but mum scared the crap out of him, explaining the seriousness of the situation and telling him if he did that he'd never see either of us ever again, because we'd most likely be dead.

But it wasn't just him she wouldn't tell. She refused tell anyone who he was. No matter how many times everyone asked, no matter how many times they begged her to tell them, she simply refused. Only one other person knew the truth, and mum had sworn them to secrecy, but since they knew the seriousness of the situation, they never broke her trust.

Of course everything changed the minute I was born. I think she was hoping that I would look like her, but I looked so much like my father they all began to understand why she had refused to tell them. And they were shocked. Completely and utterly shocked. There was no way that she would have...not with him.

It was only then that they all realised why she hadn't told them and they all became so very protective of me. And as I came to learn as I got older, it was for a good reason. My father's family wasn't known for being tolerant, they were purists, through and through, and the fact that mum was muggle-born, which made me a half-blood, meant she or I would never be accepted by them.

She never told me exactly who they were, never told me their names, only that they were very rich and very powerful, and that we would be best to stay away from them. And truthfully, I really didn't care. I wasn't interested in them if they were intolerant snobs. She never actually said that they were snobs, in fact she never said anything truly awful or negative about them. I guess she didn't want to sour my opinion towards them if I ever met them. She was good like that, my mum. But I always thought that if they were as intolerant as everyone else said they were, I wasn't sure if I did want to know who they were.

The war happened when I was still a baby, but I'd grown up hearing all the stories and I knew about the blood purists. And I knew that a part of me stemmed from that. Thinking back now, it should have been obvious. They were as well known as mum and my uncles, but they were on the wrong side. Mum always said that they had no choice, that they were forced. But like I said, she wouldn't say anything bad about them to me, however I think that if they didn't want to be on that side, they wouldn't have been.

My grandparents wanted us to stay with them, but mum told them we couldn't. The war had started, and it wasn't safe for any of us. We had to stay hidden – especially me - and the safest place for us was with The Order. So she used magic on them, wiping their memories, and sent them across to the other side of the world and we moved into Uncle Sirius's house where The Order could protect us.

As I said, I was only a baby and don't remember any of it, but I know that she was a hero. She refused to stay away from the war. She hated the thought of the purists winning, of me growing up in a world that would never allow me to exist, so she made the decision to fight alongside my uncles. She went to find them, to help them, leaving me with The Order. She tells me all the time that she hated doing it, hated leaving me and was scared everyday that she would never see me again, but I know that had she not gone she would never have forgiven herself.

That's how she got her scar. The nasty word on her arm, put there by a crazy woman who never knew who she was actually harming. But from all accounts, she probably wouldn't have cared. In fact, if she had known, mum's scar would have been the least of her worries, she would have been made to endure much more pain than it had caused. And they would no doubt have come after me.

And when she finally came home to me, she didn't let me out of her sight for weeks. Mum doesn't talk about what happened. She never has. All I know about that night was that she got her scar and that my uncles and a house elf saved her life.

And of course in all of this there is me. With her abilities and all that I'd heard of my father, mum knew there was no way I wouldn't get a letter from their school. For all his bad points, my father had been a brilliant student, excelling at potions. He was second only to my mum in everything else, which apparently he hated. Well, at least outwardly. I'm sure it was all for show, since he was supposed to hate her. But she always told me that she knew that he did love her at the time, and he wasn't truly bothered at all that she was the top student in their class.

And much to mum's surprise, it was the one thing I loved the most - Potions. Mixing and brewing, cutting ingredients correctly, learning which potions did what fascinated me, and it still does. And she tells me all the time that she is sorry that I didn't get to meet Professor Snape. She says he would have been hard on me, but only because I was so good at it.

When my letter did finally arrive, mum kind of went mental. Not mental in a psychotic way, just mental in that crazy mum way that meant she knew the day had finally arrived where she would have to answer questions and have to tell the truth, (not that she lied about me, not to anyone around us in any case), and she would have to tell people who I was, how I came into being (not the actual how, _eewww_ that's way too gross, but how in the sense that she and my father were never have meant to be together).

That was the biggest problem my mum faced. As I got older, it became harder to hide my existence from him – from anyone outside of our circle in any case. I attended a regular primary school, but I knew all about the magical community. We avoided any magical establishments and stuck to the muggle world because she knew, even after the events of the war, my father would be less likely to see me if we stayed away from those places he might be. But she knew she would have to tell him. There was no way he wouldn't find out, not when I would be attending the same magical school that he did. She just didn't know how to tell him. But, as it turned out, she didn't really have to.

I told you I look like him, right? Well, that's how he found out about me, that and he's not stupid. I have my mum's curls but everything else is him. I have his blonde hair and grey eyes; his pointed chin, high cheekbones and his pale skin. Apparently it's unmistakable.

Five years ago he found us. Well, actually he ran into us – almost literally - and as soon as he saw me, he knew. That first time, I was eleven years old and a quick calculation told him I was his. And that day, the day I first met him, I finally learned what everyone was talking about. And I finally realised just how hard it must have been for her. I had been a daily reminder for her, a daily reminder for everyone, of just who my father was.

And what made everything harder was that I knew that she had loved him. She had loved him even though she shouldn't have, and I can only assume her loved her back. And even after everything that happened - the war, the purists, the scars – I know that she still loved him. I know that it killed her that she couldn't be with him, that he couldn't be with us.

I'd heard so many different stories about him, so many different versions, that I wanted to know from her just who he was. I wanted to know the real him, the person she had fallen in love with all those years ago. I wanted to know everything about him, everything she knew.

And even though I'd asked her, it still took her a long time to tell me about him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione rounded the corner between the two buildings at full speed, her head down and tears spilling from her eyes. She was angry and upset, and the two imbeciles that were supposed to be her friends were the cause of it, yet again. She hated that they had managed to make her cry, hated herself for allowing them to get under her skin, but after yet another argument she was almost at her wits end with them.

She had arranged to meet with Harry, Ron and Ginny at Diagon Alley, telling them that they needed to be more organised and get their school supplies early. The three had groaned good naturedly at her eagerness, telling her that summer holidays had only just started and they didn't want to think about school yet. They had plenty of time, and their book lists wouldn't arrive for weeks, so they had no idea what they would actually need.

But Hermione hadn't cared. She told them they would do well to stock up on their basic items, and they could come back for the remainder of their lists when they arrived. She also reminded them of just how mental the crowds in the shops were when the booklists did arrive, and that they'd best to try to avoid them.

And, she had told them, that since she would be on holidays with her parents and she would miss it, they should celebrate Harry's birthday early.

After she'd dragged them to all the various shops that they would surely have to visit all over again when their lists arrived, Harry insisted that they had enough supplies to last them through the next two years at school and since they were supposedly celebrating his birthday, he wanted to go to Florean Fortescue's. They had sat at an outside table, enjoying the sun and laughing at yet another adventurous year, when Ginny had spotted a group of friends from her year and had gone to say hello and the latest fight between the three friends began.

The minute Ginny stepped away, Harry and Ron started their usual discussion regarding the female population of Hogwarts, and just who they thought would be the 'fittest' this term. And, as usual, they had forgotten that she was female and that she really wasn't interested in what they thought of this girl or that girl, even though she had repeatedly asked them to not hold these conversations in her presence.

"What do you think of her?" Ron asked, his eyes tracking a girl that was walking right by their table.

Hermione blanched. She had planned on tuning out the pair and ignoring their conversation, but she realised that Ron was speaking to her, "Me? Why would either of you think that I would have an opinion on her?"

"Oh, come on Hermione," Ron whined, "Do you at least think she's pretty?"

"Pretty?" Hermione sounded incredulous, "Seriously Ronald, is that all you care about?"

"Um, well," Ron stammered and looked at Harry, pleading for help, but Harry looked as stumped at her reaction as he did.

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, "Well, what?"

"Well, it helps," Ron said, "If they're pretty, I mean. There's no point looking if they're not."

Hermione made a choking sound, shocked at her friends' response.

"Hermione, we're not insulting her," Harry said calmly, "It's okay to think that a girl's pretty."

"I know it's okay Harry, but you don't have to be so blatantly rude about it," Hermione snapped, "And I don't want to be a part of another one of your caveman conversations. So please stop asking me if I think the girls you keep ogling are pretty!"

They'd laughed, brushing it off with a insincere _sorry_ , and believing her rant to be just another 'Hermione having a girly fit' moment as they always did, but in their testosterone fuelled haze they hadn't noticed her jaw clenching in anger.

She didn't actually care that they spoke like this – well, not entirely. They were guys after all, it was bound to happen. And if she was honest, she had similar conversations with the girls at school regarding the male population, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't want to have this conversation with _them_. She didn't want to think about Harry and Ron and what they wanted to do behind closed doors. She didn't want to think about what they might be doing behind closed doors.

But when Ron completely ignored her request for this conversation to end and had the nerve to ask her if she thought he should ask Lavender Brown out, and did she know if _those_ rumours about her were true, she threw a fit at the pair of them, telling them how disgusting they both were and stormed off. She hadn't wanted to hear any more, didn't want to think about the boy that she thought she had feelings for asking her about other girls. And she most certainly didn't want either of them to see her in tears.

She had been in turmoil in recent months over her feelings that had been developing for Ron. He was, on a good day, kind and thoughtful, but on days like this – when he was insensitive and tactless - she found herself questioning why she felt like she did about him. And after this latest episode, she wasn't sure if she could continue to harbour feelings for him, since he so clearly didn't care anything for her.

She raced down a side alley, her head down not watching where she was going, cursing at her two friends and wondering why it was that she was still friends with them, when she collided with the last person on the planet that she wanted to see right then. In fact, had there been a pile of cockroaches, she'd have preferred to fall headfirst into that.

Draco Malfoy. Draco sodding Malfoy. Of all the people in Diagon Alley that day why did it have to be him?

"What's wrong mudblood?" Draco snorted a laugh, looking delighted that he'd caught her in tears, "Are Scarhead and the Weasel off sniffing around for better blood?" He shoved past her, sniggering.

"Fuck you Malfoy!" Hermione yelled through her tears at his retreating back, "Fuck you, you fucking arsehole! Why don't you shove your stupid fucking pathetic pure blood up your fucking arse!"

Draco spun around, "What did you say, mudblood?" His lip was curled into a sneer, but she could see the look of utter shock in his eyes that she'd spoken to him in such a manner.

Hermione's feet remained rooted to the ground in a show of defiance, daring him to retaliate. She wasn't sure what had come over her, but she knew she'd had enough of the entire male population - stupid males with their stupid brains in their stupid penises. Harry and Ron might have been climbing closer and closer to the top of her moronic male list, but the blonde-headed git standing in front of her was currently holding the number one position, and this time she simply refused to back down.

"You fucking heard me, arsehole," she growled, "It must be devastating to know that a filthy mudblood is so much better than you in everything. Your father must be so pleased."

"Don't you dare talk about my father." He took a step towards her and she assumed it was supposed to intimidate her, but she stood her ground; he'd picked the wrong day to mess with her.

"Why not?" Hermione laughed, "Will he hear about this? Will you scamper off like the ferret that you are and tell him that the filthy mudblood was mean and nasty to his precious baby boy?"

Draco's wand was out, pointed directly at her, but she didn't budge. Right in that moment, she could have cared less about him or his stupid wand. In fact, she was curious as to just what he would do, and if he was as talented a wizard as he liked to brag that he was.

He stepped towards her, the tip of his wand jabbing into her throat.

"Go on Draco," Hermione poked a finger into his chest, goading him, "You've got me cornered, and no one's here to witness you. Hex me. Avada me. Get me out of your life for good. Go on." She lifted her chin, daring him to use his wand.

He was standing so close she could see his nostrils flare, could feel the huffs of breath against her face. She was glaring at him, but she could see confusion in his eyes. And up this close, she had to admit, he smelled amazing. Some fancy cologne, she was sure, that cost more than she could imagine. It was subtle and had her pulse racing.

"You called me Draco," he murmured.

Hermione started, she'd not realised that she had. He'd always been Malfoy, occasionally ferret-face, but never Draco. "It's your fucking name isn't it?" she said, but her voice wasn't nearly as harsh as she had hoped. Instead she sounded just as surprised as he was.

He lowered his wand, sliding it into the pocket of his robes. He stood unmoving and she could see something else in his eyes. Indecision. Over what, she had no idea. She was still shocked that he hadn't tried to hex her, that, and the fact that he was standing so close to her without sneering at her or insulting her.

She could hear his breath, inhaled and exhaled slowly through his nose, his chest rising and falling in time with each deep breath he took. She swallowed nervously at him standing so incredibly close to her and she wanted to ask what he was thinking. But her bravado of just seconds before had left her and she was, for what was the first time in her life, unable to ask a simple question.

His eyes were staring directly into hers and she found herself suddenly pushed hard against the stone wall behind her, Draco's mouth on hers. Kissing her. Draco Malfoy was kissing her. Of all things that went through her mind, all the things he could have done to her, this didn't even rate a mention. There was no way Draco Malfoy was kissing her.

But indeed he was. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but _holy hell,_ he was kissing her like it was his job. His lips were unbelievably soft and his mouth was incredibly strong, moving against hers until she responded in kind; opening her mouth and allowing his tongue to slide against hers. His hands gripped her hair, holding her in place while his mouth continued to work against hers.

 _Where the hell did he learn to kiss like this?_ She thought. _He was sixteen for fucks sake and...oh! What was he doing now?_

His tongue had found the side of her throat and he was licking and kissing gently at her flesh. A rush of air left her lungs and she struggled to breathe it back in, all thoughts of this being Draco Malfoy left her and she lifted her hand to grip his hair.

"I hate you," Draco murmured against her ear.

"And I hate you," she whispered back, almost sighing at the feel of his silken hair through her fingers.

"You're a filthy mudblood and you're beneath me and I hate you."

Hermione wanted to slap him, as she often wanted to when he tried to belittle her with that disgusting term, but all she could manage was a breathy gasp as he pressed himself harder against her. Their bodies were aligned from chests to knees, and although she didn't have a lot of experience with this, (actually, she had no experience in this; her kiss with Krum had been sweet and soft, nothing at all like this), she could certainly feel more than just his hips pressing against her, "If you hate me so much, why are you kissing me?"

He didn't answer, instead he stood staring at her mouth, his gaze so intense she felt like some kind of prey that was about to be devoured. His mouth was swollen and red, and she unconsciously ran the tip of her tongue across her own swollen lip, watching as his pupils dilated. He traced his thumb across her lip, and she shuddered at his touch, completely taken aback at the gentleness. He swooped back in, pressing his mouth harder to hers and she made a small whimper of surprise.

She shouldn't be doing this and she certainly shouldn't be enjoying it. She should be pushing him away, kneeing him in the groin and screaming bloody murder. But be damned if she wasn't enjoying it. Her pulse was racing and a pleasant heat was coursing through her. Her head felt light and she gripped him tighter for fear of collapsing to the ground. All thoughts of the two boys who had brought her to tears yet again were forgotten. Draco Malfoy was kissing her. Draco sodding Malfoy and she was sure that even if this was some cruel joke, no one would ever kiss her in the way he was ever again.

"It should have been me," Draco snarled as he pulled back from her mouth, "It should have been me that you were dancing with, not that stupid oaf."

Hermione looked puzzled, _Oaf? What the hell was he talking-_ The realisation hit her hard. He was talking about the Yule Ball. "Krum? You mean Krum?"

She felt the heavy rise and fall of his chest, his voice gruff when he snarled, "Who else would I mean?"

"Why didn't you ask me to go with you?" She asked without thinking. She knew the answer; of course he couldn't have asked her. And he told her as much.

"I wanted to, but you know that I couldn't." he whispered, "I hated watching him with his hands on you."

Their eyes met, both coloured with confusion over what was happening. Draco may have been slightly less confused than Hermione was – he had kissed her after all – but his confusion seemed to come from the fact that she was kissing him back.

Neither moved nor blinked. Their chests rose and fell in unison, both their hearts beating rapidly. Seconds passed, until Hermione slowly reached her hand up to his face, drawing her finger across his eyebrow and then caressing his cheek, taking in the features that she'd not truly noticed before. His eyes held everything, all his feelings, and her heart stuttered at the reverence with which he was looking at her in that moment. She hesitated slightly and then pulled him towards her.

Their next kiss was slower, stretching on and on until the world around them disappeared and they became completely lost in each other. Any passers-by would have simply shaken their heads and tutted, muttering something along the lines of _ruddy_ _teenagers!_

Her hand moved from his cheek and back into his hair, already loving the feel of it through her fingers and loving the way his lips moved over hers. The need for air broke them apart and Draco surprised her by gently stroking her cheek with a tenderness she would never have expected from him. His proximity to her should have been unnerving, he had hated her since the first day they met or so she thought, but he was oddly familiar, and kissing him felt natural, easy, like she'd been doing it for years.

"Why are you kissing me?" Hermione whispered.

Draco brushed a lock of errant hair from her face "Because I want to."

A smile rose on her lips, "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

The famous Malfoy smirk crossed his face, "You've heard the rumours, I'm sure."

She had. The rumours were the stuff of legends, whispered in the hallways and classrooms throughout the school. Most of the female students looked upon him in awe, hoping that they would be the one he chose for his next conquest, but she hadn't believed the stories – not all of them in any case. There was no way he could have done half the stuff that the stories had said he'd done.

His eyes dropped from hers and he stared at her swollen pink lips, "But I think the real question here is, where did _you_ learn to kiss like that?"

She smiled coyly at him, "Unlike yourself Draco, I don't like to advertise just what I get up to."

He laughed and leaned in, his breath whispering against her ear, "I find that hard to believe Granger. A good girl like you? You're far too busy studying to know how to kiss someone like that."

Hermione, not knowing what had come over her, carded her fingers through his hair and ran her tongue around the shell of his ear and whispered in her most seductive voice, "You shouldn't judge me, Malfoy. The good girl you think I am might not be so good."

"Lies don't become you, Granger."

"Nor do they become you," She countered, "You're sixteen, how could you possibly have done even half the things I've heard?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she smirked, knowing that she was right. He may have some experience at this, but she was sure it wasn't as much as he wanted everyone to believe. A loud growl emanated from Draco's chest as his mouth returned to hers, kissing her with such force that she had to grip his hips to steady herself. She tilted her face and opened her mouth, sucking his tongue between her lips. Another groan escaped him, and she felt a heady rush of power surge through her. She made him groan. Draco Malfoy. She had made Draco Malfoy groan.

It was an odd feeling; she had never once thought that she would ever have any power over him, but here she was, making him groan. And his groans were that of pleasure, not the sneers and snarls that she was accustomed to. And the surge of power she felt was quickly turning into something else, something that all her instincts told her couldn't possibly be bad. A rush of arousal spread through her, a warmth that she would not have dreamt that he could have caused in her. And the oddest thing of all was that she felt safe and strangely comfortable with him pressed against her.

"I can't…believe…we did that," Hermione panted as they broke apart once more, "I still don't understand, why me?"

"You shocked me." he admitted, "You are everything I was told that a good witch should be. You're smart and you're savvy and you're beautiful."

Hermione sucked in a breath. _He thought her smart and beautiful? Beautiful?_ Krum had told her the same – without the smart and savvy part – but here was Draco telling her she was everything. And she found that him saying it to her meant so much more.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked, her voice tentative and she cursed herself for her sudden bout of shallowness. But she was certain that no one, not even Krum, had called her beautiful with the surety that Draco was.

His lips curled into the first genuine smile she had ever seen from him, "I think you're stunningly beautiful. And smart. No one has ever bettered me at school, only you. You are my equal in everything, and I hate that I've been forced to admire you from afar for so long."

"Thank you," She whispered.

"Can I see you?" Draco asked, "Away from here?"

Hermione nodded and her _yes_ came out as a quiet, breathy sound, slightly stunned at what he was asking.

He pressed his cheek to hers and closed his eyes. "You can't tell anyone." She hummed in agreement but clearly it wasn't enough, "Hermione, you can't tell anyone."

Her heart stuttered. _Hermione._ He'd never once called her by her first name, and she loved the sound of it in his voice. "I know Draco. I won't tell a soul. I promise."

He pulled back from her, and squeezed her hand, "You'll hear from me."

She smiled and watched him as he walked away, glancing back as he rounded the corner, a grin on his face.

Hermione leaned back on the wall and closed her eyes, her mind running at a mile a minute. Draco had kissed her, called her beautiful and smart, had admitted that she was his equal and had called her by her first name. And he had asked if he could see her again. Asked, not demanded.

She breathed deeply, holding it for a few beats before exhaling slowly, attempting to calm her racing heart.

 _What the fuck had just happened?_


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione cursed and snapped her eyes open, blinking against the dim morning light that was filtering into her room. She had been interrupted by an insistent tapping on her window. She had woken on the wee hours of the morning, unable to go back to sleep. It had been another sleepless night with Draco Malfoy filling her thoughts and heating the place between her thighs with an ache that never seemed to go away.

She let out a huff and pulled her hand from beneath her knickers, leaving her aching flesh frustrated and wanting more. She laid her damp fingers on her warm belly, waiting for the image in her head of Draco's fingers on her to disappear. She'd spent far too much time since he'd kissed her indulging in Draco fantasies than she cared to admit. She'd never been one to completely abandon herself to self gratification, but the constant visual in her mind of his blonde hair sliding through her fingers and his grey eyes staring right into her soul had her in a constant state of arousal unlike anything she'd experienced before.

The tapping continued and she scowled at her bedside clock – 7am – and without even having to pull the curtains, she knew it was an owl. She cursed again, knowing that the ache wasn't going to be solved any time soon, and was now hating whoever it was that had sent an owl at this early hour.

Harry and Ron had sent several since she'd stormed off on them, both apologising and telling her that they would be more sensitive towards her in the future. Ginny had been furious at the pair, and obviously this had been her influence. Hermione knew by previous experience, that they wouldn't do it on their own. She was usually always the one to back down, had been the one to find them and sort out any disagreements, but this time she decided to make them sweat it out and had yet to respond to either of them.

She angrily flung the sheet off her and stomped across her bedroom, yanking the curtains open and expecting to see Harry's or Ron's owls, but instead she was looking at a completely unfamiliar one. A sleek looking Eagle Owl was staring directly at her and she instantly knew it could only belong to one person.

She opened the window slowly, unsure just how this creature would react to her. But it was clearly well trained and obedient; it stood unmoving as she unfastened the parchment from its leg. She smiled, a Malfoy for sure. It nipped lightly at her hand – a gentle reminder - when she finally removed it and she rewarded it with a treat. She had expected it to fly away immediately, but it remained unmoving, waiting for something.

Her eyes never left it while she unfurled the small parchment, and when she finally looked away, the note confirmed her suspicions. It was from Draco.

She'd not heard from him in the two days since their encounter in the side street of Diagon Alley and she had begun to wonder if she hadn't actually dreamt it. But she knew, of course, that she hadn't; it had been the only thing she had been able to focus on since it happened. And the fact that it _had_ happened was something she was still trying to wrap her brain around.

Draco Malfoy should have been the last person occupying her thoughts. Draco Malfoy, the boy who had tormented her since the first day they had met. Draco Malfoy, blood purist and disciple of the Death Eaters. Draco Malfoy, the most pretentious, self-righteous arsehole she had ever met.

Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to hate her; who had called her every name under the sun; who had spent the last five years sneering at her. Draco Malfoy, who had admitted that he admired her and had done so for quite some time now.

And his admittance was the exact reason that she'd been unable to think of anything but him for the last two days. It was an unusual feeling, one she hadn't been prepared for and it made her nervous. Could she have really gone from thinking that Ron Weasley was the one for her to having feelings for Draco Malfoy so quickly? It wasn't possible, was it? Could she really have feelings for Draco Malfoy?

She loathed him, didn't she? She hated the very ground he walked upon. But he had called her by her first name; had held her hair while he kissed her with soft lips; had asked to see her again; had even shown a hint of jealousy when he mentioned Krum. And his hair had been so soft between her fingers, and he had smelled so good. And kissing him was like nothing she had felt before. Not even with Krum. That kiss had been simple and sweet, and she knew that when he left, she would never see him again, and it was a fact that hadn't bothered her. But Draco's kiss had felt natural and familiar, and she missed him every second that they were apart.

And the small piece of parchment in her hand had an unexpected warmth spreading through her chest. A simple note beginning with only her first initial and ending with his. His neat, looping script was asking her to meet him at an address that was unfamiliar to her.

She shook her head; _Nice try Malfoy,_ she smirked to herself, _there was_ _no way that was happening._ Regardless of what had happened, or how she felt about him, her mistrust of him kicked in. There was no way she would meet him at a place he had chosen. Who the hell knew what she'd be walking in to?

She quickly wrote a reply, telling him to meet her at her house. Her parents would be at work, and they wouldn't have to worry so much about someone seeing them together. And if he refused, well, she would simply chalk it up to an unexpected event that she would never forget.

She tied the note to Draco's owl, gave it another treat and sent it on its way, watching until it was completely out of sight.

* * *

Draco was pacing his bedroom. He'd sent his owl at what he thought was a reasonable hour, but was now cursing himself. Had he sent it off too early? Was two days long enough to wait or had he seemed too eager? Was she still asleep? What did she sleep in? Pyjamas? Or her underwear? Or in this warmer weather did she sleep naked?

He shook his head, _no, that wasn't helping_. He'd spent far too many hours thinking of her naked and he was sure if he tossed off once more his hand would indeed grow hair, as the old wives tales told.

He'd been awake since long before the sun was up. Truth be known, he'd hardly slept at all. Not since meeting her, not since kissing her. She was all he could think of; her mouth on his, her hands in his hair, her body pressed against him, her scent all around him. He had kissed her, but more importantly, she had kissed him back, and it had been more than he could have hoped for.

He had expected her to shove him away, to kick and scream, to hex him. But instead she had shocked him when she kissed him back. And she certainly wasn't an amateur. He had assumed that a good girl like Hermione Granger would have no experience, but she had kissed him in a way that had him wondering just how many other guys she had kissed. And the possessiveness he felt towards her told him to find out the name of each one of those guys and beat the crap out of them. He may not have been able to announce it to the world, but she was his, no one else but he would ever have her again.

But it was wrong. So very, very wrong that he wanted to kiss her, wanted to touch her, wanted to do more than both. The purist in him was screaming at him to stop wanting her, screaming at him to look away from her and find someone much more appropriate for his status. His parents would disown him, his friends would shun him, and his entire family would be shamed. But the idea of pushing her away, especially after he'd now kissed her, was something he could not possibly do.

He'd watched her from afar for far too long, and to now know her taste, her feel, there was no way he could turn his back on her. He hadn't been lying to her when he had told her that she was beautiful. He had noticed her on the train on that first day, and hadn't known who she was, and had been devastated – even at only eleven years old – when he found out that she was a mudblo-, muggle-born.

And then when he had to compete with her in class, his frustration at being finally bettered came out as anger and hatred. And if he was being honest, he _had_ hated her. That was until he saw her with Krum - Krum with is big oaf hands on her, his lips on her, kissing her - and his feelings had come flooding back. And the hatred became jealousy. And the jealousy had become lust.

And his stupid sixteen year old hormones weren't helping. He'd been walking around with a hard-on for two days, and his hand was a poor substitute for how good he could only imagine her pussy would feel. The idea of shagging her senseless, shagging her until she could barely speak his name, had his balls tight and his cock hard and he wondered if she was feeling – and doing - the same.

He had fantasised about what she looked like under those muggle clothes. Would her skin be pale and flawless? Or tanned and freckled? Was she a virgin? Because after their kiss, he had to wonder if she was. But he hoped that she was; he wanted to be her first, wanted to be her only.

But how could he be? Clandestine meetings, stolen kisses in dark alleys and secret messages were all they could ever have. No matter how talented or smart or beautiful she was, she'd never be welcome at The Manor. Never be welcomed into his family.

He growled in frustration. It was rare that he didn't get what he wanted, he was spoiled and he knew it. But this was a whole new feeling of wanting something that he couldn't truly have, and he hated it. He gripped himself through his boxers, hard, in the hope that the growing problem would go away. He closed his eyes and swallowed, this had to stop.

And it did.

He was startled out of his reverie by the scraping sound on the windowsill. His owl had returned.

He moved swiftly to the window and quickly took the note from it. The owl nipped at his hand, and he pulled his hand away. This owl had an attitude; it was why he'd chosen her. He tossed a treat her way, "Thank you Hydra."

He opened the note and smirked. Typical Granger. Refusing to meet him where he wanted her to. But then his heart skipped a beat.

 _My parents won't be home._

He read the words again and could hardly believe what he was seeing. Did this mean...?

He quickly scribbled his reply. _Yes,_ _he would most definitely meet her at her house after lunch the next day._ He attached it to Hydra's leg, taking several attempts to do so and earning another sharp nip from the bird for his rough handling of her.

"Go," he told her when he finally managed to get his shaking fingers to work, "Quick as you can."

Draco watched as his owl flew off, his heartbeat raced in his chest and he instantly knew that this girl was going to cause him serious trouble.

* * *

Hermione had changed her clothes three times, unsure as to what she should wear. She had even gone so far as to dress in her school robes, thinking that he would be more comfortable if she was less muggle-like and more witch-like. Then she berated herself for being an idiot; he was coming to _her_ house, a _muggle_ house and she finally decided on a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

She had straightened her room multiple times (not that he was going to see it), and tidied the already spotless lounge room the second both her parents left for work that morning. And then she cursed herself repeatedly. This wasn't a date. This was just Draco Malfoy coming to her home.

 _Shit._

This was Draco Malfoy coming to her home. Coming to her home and knowing that her parents weren't there. What was she thinking when she'd written that? Were the stories she'd heard true? Would he expect her to...?

 _Shit._

She sat on the sofa, her knee bouncing rapidly, nervously, waiting for him to arrive. Would he arrive? Or was she correct in thinking that this was all some cruel joke? A bet with his Slytherin mates to see if he could score with her? Her knee moved faster, to the point where she had to place her hand on her thigh to stop it.

 _Fuck, fuck, shitting fuck!_

What was she doing? He had mistreated her for years, had called her _filthy_ and _mudblood_ , had scowled and cursed at her through every class they had shared, and now she was asking him into her home? She was certain she'd lost her mind. And she was certain that if anyone knew about this, they would have her locked away.

There was a knock at the door and she yelped in surprise, standing and almost running for the door. She stopped, and took several breaths, calming herself, slowly reaching for the door knob.

She had to bite her lip to keep her gasp of surprise in check. He was here, right on time. Just as he'd said he would be. And he was wearing jeans. _Holy shit._ Jeans that probably had been tailored especially for him and cost more than she'd like to think about, but jeans nonetheless. And his immaculate white button down shirt fitted him so perfectly she almost swooned.

"Granger," He said with a hint of a smirk.

"Malfoy," she replied, not even trying to conceal her own grin.

"Thank you for inviting me." He said formally, his pure-blood manners ingrained into him from birth.

"Thank you for coming," She said, matching his formality, "Please come in."

Draco nodded and Hermione politely stood to the side, allowing him to step past her and into the small foyer. She closed the door and the click of the latch sounded loud in their combined silence.

She watched as he looked around her small house. She imagined his thoughts – it was no Malfoy Manor, but it was her home. Simple furniture, in whites and pale blues, white walls covered in family photos. The kitchen and dining room were to the left and the lounge room to the right. The stairs led up to the first floor that held three bedrooms, and another set of stairs up on that floor led to a attic room that she had claimed as her own at the beginning of the summer.

Her parents had laughed at her nervous request, telling her it was perfectly fine, that since she was so used to having her own space away from them that they weren't at all insulted that she wanted to move up there. But she didn't want to think of bedrooms and beds, and of Draco Malfoy being in such close proximity to hers. He would not be seeing her bedroom, not today anyway.

"I don't think I've ever been in a muggle home," Draco said.

Hermione could help but laugh, "No I can't imagine that you ever would have been."

"It's not what I expected."

"What _were_ you expecting?"

Draco shook his head, "I'm not sure now. But I like it."

"Thank you," Hermione said blushing.

They glanced at each other, and both instantly looked away.

 _Get a grip, Granger,_ she admonished herself. "Did you want to sit?" She indicated with an outstretched arm to the lounge room and the sofa.

He nodded and sat at one end of small sofa. She took her place beside him, not actually realising that she had sat closer than she had intended. And the instant she had sat down, her knee began bouncing again. He reached out and softly placed his hand on her thigh, startling her.

"Are you nervous?" he said gently.

"Aren't you?" She watched him swallow and he nodded.

"Yes," he finally said, "Yes, I'm nervous. And I don't know why." She frowned at him questioningly, "We've never held back from each other at school. Mostly in anger of course, so there's no reason that this should be any different."

She let out the breath of air she hadn't realised she was holding. "You're right." She told him and then rolled her eyes at his smug grin, "You're right about _this_ , nothing else."

He laughed, and suddenly they both felt more at ease. "Was it okay?"

"Okay? Was what okay?" Hermione asked. His cheeks flashed pink and she realised that he meant their kiss. " _Oh,_ yes. Sorry, I wasn't sure what you...yes, it was okay." She couldn't help but notice his hand was still resting on her thigh and she had to push the images of the last few days of her own hands in other places close where his hand was out of her mind. One snogging session in a side alley – no matter how amazingly good it was - did not mean she would fall straight into bed with him.

"Good," he said in a shaking voice.

They both sat staring at each other, neither knowing what to say. He _was_ right. They had never had any trouble finding something nasty to say to each other at school, but now they were in a completely different situation, and the silence was stretching between them.

Hermione huffed out a breath at the awkward situation and told herself to knock it off. She was being ridiculous. She wasn't one of those air-headed bimbo throwing herself at him, she was sensible and intelligent; she could do this. She'd already kissed him, for god's sake, she could certainly talk to him. She held her hand out to him, "Hermione Jean Granger."

Draco looked at her hand as if she was mad, but when he realised what she was doing, a smile slowly crept across his face. "Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"Nineteenth of September," Hermione grinned, "Muggle-born."

"Almost a year older than me, interesting," Draco grinned back at her and then added, "Fifth of June. Pure-blood."

Hermione turned to face him, curling her legs into a lotus position. His formal position was almost making her laugh and she hoped that he would follow suit. "My parents are dentists, and I'm an only child."

"Um," Draco hummed, his stiff spine relaxed and he sank back into the couch, unconsciously following her lead. He wasn't quite as relaxed as she was, but it was better. "My parents..."

She reached over and touched his arm, "It's okay, you don't have to tell me. Might be for the best. The less I know about them and all that."

He gave her an appreciative smile, "I am also an only child."

"My parents were also only children, so I have virtually no family."

"Quite the opposite for me," Draco said with a sigh, "I have a long linage and am surrounded on both sides by quite an extended family."

Hermione kept her face impassive, but she was curious as to exactly what he meant by extended family. Were the rumours of the Death Eaters true? And if they were, was he a part of them? Or did he simply mean the Malfoy's and the Blacks were both large families? She wanted ask, but rather than turning this into a nasty school-yard exchange, she quickly changed the subject, "My favourite colour is blue."

She expected him to say black, or even green, but he surprised her, "I like white," he said and shrugged at her expression, "White hides nothing."

She noted a flicker of pain cross his eyes and she wondered just what kind of life he had actually lived. _White hides nothing_. It was a heavy statement, loaded with possible meanings, but she thought that a conversation for another time.

"Um, I like to read," she said and he laughed.

"Really Granger? I had no idea." He drawled and shook his head, but smiled at the same time, "My father wanted me to go to Durmstrang. Mother wouldn't allow it."

"I didn't even know I was a witch," Hermione shrugged.

"What was that like?"

"To find out I was a witch?" Hermione shook her head and huffed out a breath, "It was...I don't know...weird, I guess. But once the realisation set in, it made sense."

"You could do stuff you couldn't explain?"

"Exactly." She twisted her mouth thoughtfully, "I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw."

Draco looked surprised, "Seriously?" She nodded and Draco shook his head, "No way. You're Gryffindor through and through."

"And you're definitely Slytherin." She said with a smirk.

"I'd have been disowned had there been a different result."

Hermione worried her bottom lip with her teeth, wondering if she should admit her crush to him, but she didn't get the chance.

"I've had a crush on you for two years." Draco's eyes had dropped to his lap and she could see the pink tinge in his cheeks.

Hermione inched closer to him and touched his arm again, "You like me?" He nodded, "But why? You could have any girl in school. Some of whom are more...appropriate, shall we say."

He smiled at her comment, "I know. My parents have already been directing me as to who would be an excellent match."

She frowned at him, "You're sixteen. They can't be serious about that already, can they?"

"Oh, my dear muggle-born," He teased, poking her gently in the ribs, "You may have smarts when it comes to books and learning, but you know so little about the traditions of the pure-bloods."

"Then tell me, oh great one," She drawled, "Inform me of your archaic traditions so I might become as wise as you. Wait! You're not talking about arranged marriages, are you?"

"No, nothing like that," he said, "Well, almost nothing like that. Pure-blood parents want only the best for their children."

"The Weasley's aren't like that," she pointed out, "They don't care who their children marry."

"Are you comparing me to Weasley?" Draco tried not to sneer, but couldn't help it.

Hermione laughed, "No, you're nothing like them, except for the pure-blood thing."

Draco nodded and then looked thoughtfully at her, "I guess I should say purists, rather than pure-bloods. But I suddenly don't care about any of it." She bit her lip, as he moved closer to her, and his voice was shaking with nerves when he asked, "May I kiss you again?"

She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him, "You can, but Draco, I know my parents aren't home and I don't-"

He pressed a finger to her lips, "I know. I just want to kiss you, that's all."

She smiled at him, and nodded her consent, watching as his pulse thumped in his throat.

He leaned closer and hesitated slightly before gently pressing his lips to hers. All the remaining awkwardness and tension left the room and she was taken straight back to that first wild kiss in the alley. This was slow and gentle in comparison, but the familiar feeling of him was already seared into her brain.

His hand gripped her shoulder and then came up to cup her jaw. The kiss grew in intensity, grew deeper and instinctively she pulled him with her as she floated back onto the soft cushions. He let out a surprised yelp when he landed over her, cradled between her thighs. He braced himself over her, his palms flattened beside her head, staring down at her. But she pulled him down to her, pressing their chests together.

"Is this okay?" she asked and he nodded.

He began kissing her again, dipping down and brushing his lips against hers over and over again until she gripped his hair and held his mouth against hers. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, earning another surprised groan from him, and she smiled against his lips. It was a sound she could definitely get used to.

She felt his hips grind against hers, the movement sending a flash of heat straight to her core, and her own sounds mingled with his. She circled her arms around his neck and simply kissed him, luxuriating in the feel of him; his chest pressed against her, his lips on hers, his hips grinding languidly over her denim covered core. Her head was almost spinning at the combined sensations.

And holy shit, it felt good.

Hermione pulled back, the sudden need to just look at him overwhelmed her. But she found him staring back down at her with intense grey eyes, his brows pinched together, a serious gaze on his face. This close she could see the swirls of blue in his grey eyes, and she was instantly jealous of his perfect, flawless skin.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Just that this feels right." And she meant it. She was astounded at just how well they fit together.

His kiss swollen lips curled into a devilish grin, "Are you surprised?"

"A little," she admitted.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "You shouldn't be. I knew this would be perfect."

"Why?" she asked and he lifted his head back up to look at her.

"Because you're the smartest, most talented witch of our age," He smirked at her, "And, well, then there's me. We were bound to be together."

She laughed and pinched his ribs making him squirm.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he pressed down harder on her, and she noted the heavy feel of him where he was nestled between her thighs.

"You're wrong." She sniggered.

He ground against her, "Tell me you don't want this."

She couldn't tell him no, because she did want it. She wanted it more than anything. But kissing him was all she was willing to do for the moment.

"I do want this," she whispered, "I like kissing you. But I'm not ready for anything more just yet." She saw the flicker of excitement in his eyes when she said _yet_. He obviously wanted more - _very_ _obviously_ \- but she certainly wasn't going to rush into anything more than this with him today.

"Good," he said, "Because I want this too. And I'll wait for you."

Hermione smiled, running her hand through his silken blonde hair, "You're not what I expected."

"Neither are you," Draco dropped his lips to hers in an earnest kiss. His hand slipped down her side, brushing gently against the side of her breast. She inhaled a sharp breath and he stilled instantly, "Sorry," he whispered.

"That's okay," She breathed, her face flaming red as she took his hand and placed it on her breast. His own breath stuttered as he stared down at where she was covering his hand with her own. She could see a million thoughts swirling behind his eyes, unsure if he should actually continue. She reached up and caressed his jaw, nodded that it was okay.

She let her fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his lower back. Hermione closed her eyes as he began to knead and caress her. The exquisite feel of his hand, the soft touch of his lips on her throat, his hips pressed hard against hers, she wanted to relent and let this continue to where they both wanted it to go.

But she wasn't the one to stop.

"Hermione," He groaned, "Unless you want this to go further, we have to stop."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His face was flushed, visibly strained, and he was breathing hard. She nodded, "We probably should." He wasn't the only one hot and bothered.

He pressed one last kiss to her lips and pushed off her, sitting back on the couch attempting to catch his breath and watching her as she sat up. They sat staring at each other for a minute, neither moving, neither saying a word. In Hermione's chest, her heart was beating a mile a minute and a smile crept across her face.

"Shit," She said and laughed, "That was...wow."

Draco reached out and squeezed her bare foot, his breath still shaky when he said, "Yeah. I agree. Wow."


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks.

Two of the longest weeks of his life.

He may have been being overly dramatic – no, he _was_ being overly dramatic - but he hadn't seen her in two fucking weeks and it was driving him insane.

A family holiday had taken her away from him, had taken her to Italy, which may as well have been the moon for that was as far as it seemed. A family holiday that there was no way she could get out of since it had been planned long before anything had happened between them, and since she was away from her family for most of the year no excuses would be acceptable. So she had to go.

And he'd been sullen and sulking and had hardly left the confines of his bedroom since she'd left.

His father had barely noticed, but his mother had voiced her concerns. He of course told her that he was fine, that nothing was bothering him, but she hadn't believed him. So he let her assume that he was nervous about the events that were about to unfold in the coming months. But in truth, what had been asked of him was the furthest thing from his mind. He could have cared less, regardless of the consequences his nonchalance could have. His sole focus was on her. He hadn't wanted anything in his life as much as her wanted her.

And he knew it wasn't just some teenage crush, he knew it was much more than that. He had told her that she was everything that he had been told a pureblood witch should be, all the qualities that she possessed had been drummed into him as being the exact things he should be looking for in the future Mrs. Malfoy and reason told him that her blood status shouldn't matter when she was the perfect match for him.

Of course, that wouldn't float with anyone. Not his family, nor his friends, and most definitely not with the higher powers that were insisting that he do their bidding. They – or more aptly the Dark Lord – would kill her, and then him, and then his family, and his name would become synonymous with being a deserter, a turncoat, a traitor. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

He had become an expert at burying his feelings; he had been in love with her since the Yule Ball. Longer in fact, and in the two years since he'd watched Krum dancing with her, he had learned to hide any and all feelings, had built up walls, had shut out all advances by any other girl, and he hated it. He hated that he couldn't be with her all because of stupid beliefs and archaic traditions, and the idiotic notion that he had to uphold the Malfoy name.

It was stupid. All of it. All the brainwashing, all the pureblood nonsense, all the bullshit he'd been fed since he could remember. Because she contradicted all of it.

She was the most talented, most brilliant, most beautiful witch he knew.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

"You're fucking kidding me?! You met someone?" Ginny shrieked, "Is he a wizard?"

"Shhh," Hermione hissed. She glanced at the door, sure that the entire house had heard and Harry and Ron would be banging on the door any second now asking who the hell she was seeing.

She'd arrived home from her holidays the previous day and Ginny had insisted that she visit immediately. Her friend had dragged her up to her bedroom the second she got the chance, knowing full well that something was definitely different with her, and had asked just what had happed on her holiday to Italy. And Ginny had been flabbergasted when Hermione had admitted that she had met someone, but she was reluctant to say much more.

Ginny held up her hands in apology and lowered her voice, "Sorry. Is he a wizard?"

"Um," Hermione was torn as to what exactly she would tell her. If she told Ginny that the person who was making her smile like a fool was in fact a wizard, Ginny wouldn't rest until she figured out who he was. And she knew that Ginny would eventually work out who it was; she seemed to have a sixth sense about such things, so she lied. "No, he's not a wizard. And I'm not even sure if it will be anything more than just a holiday crush. I mean we're headed back to school in three weeks and I'll most likely not ever see him again."

Ginny clapped her hands in glee, "Ooh, a holiday fling. Hermione Granger, I never knew you had it in you. I'm so proud of you."

Hermione's face had turned beet red, nothing had happened on her holiday, it had happened before, but there was no way she could tell Ginny _that._ Shehuffed out a laugh, thankful that her friend hadn't caught her lie. She couldn't even imagine what Ginny would say if she knew the truth.

"Did you...?" Ginny trailed off and Hermione's already hot face grew hotter.

"No," she said, "I'm sixteen, I'm not sure I'm ready for _that_."

"Almost seventeen," Ginny corrected her, "And who knows, maybe since you've not really noticed boys before, you actually _are_ ready." Hermione flushed even redder and Ginny laughed, "But I'm glad you didn't rush into anything, or he didn't force you or anything."

"Oh, no. He wouldn't do that. He's not like that at all," She said before quickly adding, "I'm just sorry I might not see him again."

Ginny squeezed her shoulders, "Don't say that. He may have fallen madly in love with you and will wait for you forever. Do you have a picture?"

"No," Hermione grimaced. _Shit,_ she didn't think Ginny would ask her that.

Ginny frowned, "Seriously? Not one picture?"

"No," Hermione sighed, "And I lied. He _is_ a wizard. But I don't want you to try to figure out whom."

Ginny's frown quickly turned into a grin, "It's Krum, isn't it?"

"Krum? No. Why would it be him?"

"You met him in Italy for a secret rendezvous," Ginny swooned, "Was it romantic?"

Hermione laughed and slapped Ginny's arm, "No. I was with my parents, so there was no romance, _and_ because it wasn't him."

"Come on Hermione," Ginny whined, "Give me something. I'm missing out terribly here."

"How the hell are you missing out?" Hermione asked with a grin, "You're secretly seeing Harry."

It was Ginny's turn to change colour, her face instantly changing from pale to bright red. "How did you know?" she hissed.

"Ginny, come on," Hermione laughed, "We all know. If you think it's obvious that something happened with me, you should see the two of you."

"What!? I thought we were hiding it so well." Ginny covered her face with her hands and shook her head, "Do you really think _everyone_ knows?"

"By everyone, do you mean Ron?" Hermione knew that both Ginny and Harry had been concerned what Ron's reaction would be. His best mate and his sister, it would be a daunting prospect for any older brother.

Ginny nodded, and Hermione assured her that Ron was probably the only one who didn't know, "Oh thank Merlin," she breathed, "He would flip if he knew."

"I don't think it would be that bad," Hermione said, "I'm sure he'll love having Harry as a brother-in-law."

Ginny almost choked, "Brother-in-law?"

Hermione flopped back onto Ginny's bed, "I know it will happen."

Ginny lay beside her, "And you've managed to change the subject."

"Caught that, did you?"

"You're not as smart as you think you are, Granger." Ginny rolled to face her, "So he's a wizard, but not Krum, and clearly not my brother," she paused as Hermione rolled her eyes, "Are you going to give me any details?"

"He's amazingly good-looking," Hermione said after a few beats.

Ginny looked at her unbelievingly, "That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?"

"I don't want to make a big deal of this,' Hermione told her, "I don't want to be all swoony over him because I probably won't see him again."

Ginny nodded, and gave her a thoughtful look, "Amazingly good-looking, huh? He must be from Durmstrang."

"It's not Krum!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ginny laughed, "Krum's not the only student at Durmstrang. I'm sure there are a dozen more versions of that piece of perfection that go there. I'm so glad this happened, you deserve much more than my brother."

Hermione's eyes went wide, "He's your brother, and I thought you'd be thrilled if something were to happen between us."

"Oh, I would be," Ginny said, "I love my brother, don't get me wrong, but I think you can do so much better. I mean, come on Hermione, you're brilliant. He's not even in your league."

"I'm not that brilliant." Hermione muttered quietly. But she knew she was. Her professors, other students, Dumbledore...Draco, they had all said as much, but she didn't like to think herself above anyone, especially her friends.

But it wasn't until Ginny had just pointed out that she had been looking at Ron in a different light that Hermione realised that in the weeks since Draco had first kissed her, she had given Ron no thought at all.

"Um, you might be right," Hermione admitted, "I don't think I like him in that way anymore." She winced away, hoping that Ginny wouldn't hate her.

But Ginny simply smiled, "I think whoever this lucky guy is, he's gotten under your skin and you like him way more than you care to admit."

Ginny was right, she did like him more than she would have thought even possible. And while she and Ginny shared most things in their lives, she certainly couldn't tell her the truth this time. Hermione was sure that even her best friend wouldn't understand why she felt the way she did about Draco.

"Maybe," Hermione said slowly.

"Maybe?" Ginny was smiling softly at her, "I can read your face, and I definitely think it's more than just maybe. You can send owls, and you can see him at Christmas. If you like him as much as I think you do, surely it's worth it?"

Hermione nodded. But Ginny had no idea that she would see him every day, would have to listen to the vitriol and nastiness that he would spit at her to keep up appearances, and that she would have to do the same back. And she hated to even have to think about it.

She'd yet to see him since her return, but the owl that was waiting on her windowsill had brought a smile to her face and had set her heart racing. The owl had nipped gently at her hand again, a sign, she was sure, that it liked her and she had sent an immediate note in return, telling him that yes, she would definitely see him. But since she'd already made plans with Ginny and didn't want her to be suspicious, he would have to wait an extra day.

She knew he'd be pissed. She was pissed. She wanted to see him straight away, but an extra day would mean Ginny, Harry and Ron wouldn't think anything out of the ordinary, and it also meant her parents would be back at their jobs and they could meet in complete privacy.

But Ginny couldn't know that, so she had to keep up the lie. "Maybe Ginny. Maybe it's worth it. But I just don't know if it's possible. I mean with everything that's coming, or we think that's coming, it could be a long time before I get the chance to see him again. And he shouldn't have to wait."

"If he's a decent guy he'll wait," Ginny assured her, "And if he knows how amazing you are, he'll definitely wait."

Hermione smiled. _Yes, she knew he would, but she wasn't sure if_ she _could._

* * *

Hermione stood poised at the door, her hand on the knob, taking several quiet deep breaths. She wondered, not for the first time, just how it was that the boy standing on the other side, (the boy who less than a month ago she thought hated her very being), had turned her into a love-struck fool unable to think of anything but him.

She opened the door to find him smiling at her.

"Granger."

Hermione laughed, "Malfoy." She stepped to the side allowing him to pass and closed the door behind him. She turned to find him staring intently at her. "What?"

He moved forward ever so slowly, and the image of being stalked by a predator flashed through her mind once more. But she didn't feel scared or intimidated; instead she felt a heady rush of power over him. That she could have this effect on him had her smirking.

"Did you want me to wipe that grin off your face?" He whispered just millimetres away from her lips.

"You can try," Hermione whispered back, "But you won't succeed. I'm better than you at everything, remember?"

He smiled, "Were you always this mouthy?"

Hermione shrugged, "Yes, but you were always too busy tormenting me to notice just how mouthy I can be."

Draco sniggered and grazed his lips across hers. An exquisite feeling spread through her, and her lips automatically parted, his mouth returning to hers with more force. It was exactly as she'd remembered. She thought that two weeks hadn't seemed like a long time – and in reality it wasn't - but now that he was kissing her, kissing her like it had been an eternity, not merely fourteen days.

He stopped kissing her and pulled away, his hands cupping her jaw and he smiled. "Did you miss me?"

"Not as much as you missed me apparently," Hermione smirked at him.

He kissed her once more, quickly, "It was like torture without you."

Hermione was surprised at his admission, she was simply teasing him and hadn't expected him to be so sincere. It made her smile, "I did miss you. Two weeks was an awfully long time."

"You didn't enjoy Italy then?"

"Oh, no, I did." She said, "It was wonderful. The history, the stunning architecture, the beaches. It was truly amazing."

"Hmm," He hummed, "It doesn't sound like you missed me at all."

Hermione sighed and leaned into him, torn between wanting to give in and pull him up the stairs to her bedroom, and simply returning to the couch and picking up where they left off two weeks prior. She was being truthful when she told Ginny that she was ready for anything more, but right then, with his lips pressing softly against her throat, her willpower was being tested.

Besides, it had only been a little over three weeks since their first kiss, two since their heated make-out session on her couch, and as tempting as it was, she wasn't just going to let him into her bed just to get it over with. And it wasn't that she held old fashioned views that her virginity was sacred and should be held onto at all costs and given only to that one special person, she didn't think that at all. It was just that she didn't think she was ready.

She didn't _think_ she was ready.

She was stunned at her own thought. She didn't _think_ she was ready. Did that mean she _was_ ready? She had missed him. More than she thought she would after only a few weeks of...of whatever it was that they were doing, but was she ready to go that far with him? What would he think if she asked him? Would he think her wanton or a slag?

She didn't think so. Considering the feeling of his arousal when he was cradled between her thighs the last time he was in her home, she didn't think he would object to her at all for suggesting that they head upstairs.

"I can hear you thinking," He said and thread his fingers into her hair, "Are you sure you want me here?"

She nodded, "Yes, I definitely want you here. I just..." She glanced at the stairs and he peered over his shoulder to see what she was looking at.

"I'm happy on the couch again," He told and gave her another lingering kiss and took a step back.

She smiled, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Hermione, whatever you think of me, I'm not _that._ I would never force you, or do anything that you aren't ready for."

She smiled again, "I'm not sure that you're the one we need to be concerned about here."

His eyes went wide, "Oh…um…if you want to…"

She bit her lip. Did she want to? She was beginning to think that she did. "Draco, I do but I'm not sure…" she shook her head, "Maybe not today."

Draco nodded, not seeming to be put out by her admitting she wanted to but then putting the brakes on, took her hand and began moving towards the living room, "The couch it is then."

When they were situated on the couch - her leg draped across his lap, his hand caressing her thigh - he didn't pick up where they left off. Instead he asked about her holiday, and listened intently as she filled him in on every detail.

"Have you been?" Hermione asked.

"To Italy?" she nodded at his question, "No. I've barely left London."

"Really I thought-" She stopped. Just because he came from wealth beyond anything she could even imagine, didn't mean that he'd travelled the world. And especially not with his bigoted parents. She couldn't really imagine them holidaying anywhere that there might be muggles – which left very few options.

"You thought what?"

She shrugged, "Sorry, I just assumed that with all your money you would have seen the world. I shouldn't make assumptions. Sorry."

His lips twitched, fighting back a smile, "Can you seriously imagine Lucius and Narcissa on a beach in Italy, or skiing the slopes in Austria?"

She tried her best not to laugh, but a giggle escaped her, "No. No I cannot picture that at all."

"My father travels...business trips and what not, but that's it." He shrugged, "I've not been anywhere."

"Well, you should go. It was wonderful and I know that you'd love it."

"Maybe when we finish school and...everything...is behind us, you could take me."

The thought of being in Italy with him had sent a shiver down her spine, and she climbed onto his lap her. He let out a startled yelp when she began to kiss him senseless. She'd missed two weeks of kissing him, of touching him, of simply looking at him, and she could have spent the time between their last meeting and this, doing all of that with him and she'd missed out.

His hands skimmed along her back, dipping quickly under her t-shirt and sliding over her skin, (not wandering high enough for her liking), but causing goose bumps to rise all over her nonetheless. She weaved her fingers through his hair, pulling gently and tugging his head back so she could press her lips to his throat. She breathed him in, the same scent lingering on him as was in the alley. It had fast become her favourite smell.

She had assumed that he would have been the one to take charge, to kiss her, maybe even lay her back on the couch and touch her in a way that she had fantasised about, but apart from stalking her in the hallway when he first arrived, he had seemed nervous, had seemed more interested in talking to her, listening to her, than doing anything more.

She hadn't been prepared for just how much she liked him, how much she wanted him. She was sixteen, for Christ sake, she'd had very little time for this prior to him, had been more interested in school and studying, but he'd managed to change all that in three short weeks. He was all she could concentrate on, all she saw in her mind, he even made nightly appearances in her dreams. Which had meant waking up in covered in sweat, and with an ache she'd not yet satisfied.

His hands reached up to her shoulders, griping her and pulling her back slightly. She was confused at the movement, but smiled when he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

She pressed another kiss to his mouth, "I am. But only this."

Draco nodded and pulled her back to him, "I perfectly fine with this. I like kissing you." His hands skimmed down her back again, over her ribs, hesitating momentarily before slipping further and cupping her rear. His hands had roamed much higher during their previous snogging session, so she didn't think her arse was too big of a deal for him to be groping, but apparently he did.

"I like your hands on me," she told him wiggling her backside against his hands.

"I like my hands on you," he said and she snorted a laugh, "What?"

"I didn't take you for cheesy comebacks," she laughed, "I can't wait to hear more."

He pinched her arse, and laughed, "There's so much you don't know about me Hermione Granger, cheesy comebacks are just the tip of the iceberg."

"I know one thing," Hermione smirked and shifted forward again, her nose sliding along his jaw. She flicked her tongue over his ear and then said in teasing voice. "The way you're gripping my rear makes me think you're an arse man Draco Malfoy."

"Hmm," he answered with his own smirk, "See, you know nothing about me. Arses are all well and good, but that's not what I like."

She kissed his jaw and bumped her nose against his, "What do you like?"

She inhaled sharply when his fingers found their way under her t-shirt and slid over the skin of her belly. She closed her eyes, sighing at the feel of his hands and fingers searching and touching, slipping higher and higher until he reached the underside of her breast. He'd touched her here before, but over her top, now there was only her bra between his hand and her flesh.

She gripped his shoulders, staring down between them, eyeing the outline of his hand beneath her top. They both stilled, and her eyes moved back up to his. "Breast man?"

He nodded, "Cliché, I know, but I love breasts. Especially yours."

She wasn't sure what she was thinking but she sat up and reached for the hem of her t-shirt, gripping it and pulling it over her head. Her bra was simple, not fancy in the slightest, just plain white cotton with a cute pink lace trim, but watching as his pupils dilated she knew it was a good choice.

She took his hands that had fallen to her thighs and placed them on her ribs, letting him decide if he wanted to touch her. He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the movement, his eyes heavy with want.

"Especially yours," he repeated in a whisper and leaned forward to kiss her collar bone, slowly – agonisingly so – kissing his way to the swell of her breast.

Hermione gripped his shoulders and closed her eyes, feeling her nipples harden as his mouth dropped kiss after kiss over the swells. She sighed, a quiet sound that had him stopping to look up at her.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Hmm-hmm," she murmured, almost groaning when he returned to his task. "Draco, I need more." She gripped his hands in hers and moved them to cover her breasts. He groaned against her skin and squeezed.

"Shit, Hermione," he murmured and she hummed in response. He shifted back on the couch, watching his own hands as he cupped her, kneading and caressing, his thumbs skating back and forth across her hardened nipples through the fabric of her bra.

She slipped forward on his lap; she was wet, very wet, soaking through her underwear, and she suspected her jeans, and she could feel the press of his erection against her, realising he was as aroused as she was. She rocked over him while he continued to tease her breasts, the tentative movements becoming more and more sure.

His thumbs moving over her nipples feel amazing, better than anything she could have dared to imagine. It both tickled and hurt at the same time, a feeling that she was sure that she could become accustomed to. She dropped her mouth back to his, kissing him hard, needing his mouth and tongue and everything else all at once.

She felt one bra cup being tugged to the side and gasped when his fingers finally touched her bare flesh. He stopped, looking back up at her, a question in his eyes. She nodded and murmured her consent and he immediately continued, this time with his mouth. Hermione gripped his hair, gasping as his teeth grazed the hard bud, her breath catching and shuddering on the exhale. She whispered his name and he sucked harder, her hips grinding down as his tongue flicked and circled.

 _Where the fuck had he learned to do this?_ Maybe the stories were true, maybe he _had_ fucked his way through the entire female population of the school.

Maybe she didn't want to think about that right now.

"Hermione?" his voice was ragged. She hadn't realised that she had gone still above him. "Are you okay?"

She smiled down at him, "Fine. I just…"

Draco arched an eyebrow at her, "You just…?"

She swallowed hard, "I want more, but I don't want… _argh!_ I don't know what I want."

He tapped her thigh, "Get up."

She frowned, "What?"

"Get up," he said again and she slid off his lap, standing before him. He lay across the couch on his side, and motioned for her to lay beside him, "You can touch me too if we lay like this." She smiled and slowly lowered herself to lay beside him, his hand immediately returning to her breast. "Touch me Hermione. Please."

She raised her hand to his chest, feeling his hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt, before slowly slipping each button loose. Her fingers traced along his chest, feeling the smooth lines and dips of his muscles, his skin surprisingly warm.

Draco let out a shaky breath, "I like your hands on me."

Hermione giggled, and repeated their earlier exchange, "I like my hands on you."

He pinched her nipple and laughed, "Cheesy."

Hermione smiled at him, not really believing that Draco Malfoy was _a)_ pinching her nipple, and _b)_ being sweet and charming.

She kissed him again before daring to move her hand lower, feeling the dip of his belly button and the trail of hair beneath his naval. His stomach clenched, and, with a confidence she was unaware she possessed, went lower again, feeling the hard bulge in his jeans. He swore and his hips jerked forward into her hand.

She fumbled with his belt, the sudden urge to feel him overpowering every other thought. His hand fell from her breast, gripping her wrist and stopping her. She lifted her head to look at him, his eyes quizzical, asking what she was doing.

"You said I could touch you?" she asked and when Draco nodded she reached for his zipper. She'd never seen a penis before, not a real one anyway. She'd seen pictures that she and Ginny had giggled incessantly over, and that was it. But now that was all about to change.

She managed to get his button undone and then eased the zipper down. He shifted a little helping her to shove at the waist of his jeans and boxer briefs, pushing them just low enough so she could slip her hand beneath the elastic and wrap her fingers around his cock. His stomach clenched again as she slowly drew him out.

He was hard – she had expected that – but what she hadn't expected the softness of his skin at the same time. She stroked him tentatively, and he hissed out a breath, his head lolling back, his eyes closing and Hermione grinned. She had Draco Malfoy's dick in her hand, he was completely at her mercy and he was loving it.

And, fuck, he really was gorgeous. She'd never had the chance to look at him, really look at him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect skin, it was all there and yes, she had noticed it, but she'd never looked. His cheekbones were high and his jaw strong, his shoulders and chest were fine but beautifully formed and well defined. And right now, his chest was rising and falling heavily, soft sounds falling from his open mouth and she thrilled in the power she had over him.

"Draco," she whispered and he opened his eyes, "Tell me how to do this."

"Faster," he managed, "Grip me harder."

She pumped him a little harder, moving her hand faster, "Like this?"

He wrapped his hand around hers and gripped harder, guiding her, "I like it hard."

She was surprised at how hard his hand was gripping hers, much harder than she thought would be comfortable, but his teeth were biting at his bottom lip, his breath hitching and she began to pump him faster. His hand dropped from hers and returned to her breast, not moving, just holding her.

He began to squirm, his hips rocking in time with her hand stoking him. She hadn't imagined that when he knocked on her door that they would be doing this.

 _Or had she?_

She had certainly imagined this with him; she just hadn't pictured it so soon, or on the couch. And she had imagined _him_ taking control and touching her, not what was happening now.

"Hermione…" Her name fell from him in a breathy moan, his hips arching and she felt him swell in her hand. He was pumping into her fist, and she looked down, fascinated, watching as warm liquid shot from the tip of his cock, covering her fingers and his belly. She slowed her hand, stopping completely when he murmured for her to do so.

She thought him beautiful before, but watching him as he slowly came back from the blissful pleasure he'd just received, she thought him stunning. His face was flushed and his breathing unsteady, his eyes were still closed but a small smile tugged at his mouth. Her hand was still wrapped around him; he was still hard which surprised her. She thought he would go soft instantly, but clearly she had been misinformed.

"Shit Granger." He half laughed, "That was…shit."

She bit her lip as he opened his eyes, "You like it then?"

"Liked? No. Liked doesn't come close." He glanced down to where she was still holding him, "I don't think I'll ever look at your hands in the same way."

Hermione snorted a laugh and, finally releasing him, reached up for the tissues on the end table and cleaned them both up. "Can we do that again next time?"

"I have absolutely no objections to that request," He grinned at her, "But maybe next time you could be more involved."

She frowned at him, "What do you- _oh!_ " She realised what he meant. She swallowed and imagined his hand down her pants and her face grew hot.

Draco laughed, "No need to be embarrassed, considering what you just did. I'm more than happy for you to do that again if you're not ready."

She leaned in and kissed him, lingering against his lips, "I'm sure I'll be ready next time."

"Hermione," he lifted his hand to cup her jaw, "I meant what I said, I won't force you into this. You say when you're ready and I won't do anything until then."

"I know, and thank you," she lay her head on his bicep and simply looked at him.

"What?"

"You're different."

He lifted his eyebrow in question, "How so?"

"You're sweet and charming, and not the arrogant arse I'm used to."

Draco frowned, "I think there was a compliment in there somewhere."

"There was. I know you can't be this with me in public, but I just wanted to you to know what I see." She kissed him, several slow, sated kisses, "You should probably go."

Draco huffed out a laugh, "That's it then? The hand job of my life and I should go?"

Hermione slapped his chest, "Well, unless you want my dad to find you with your pants down and half naked on the couch with his daughter, we have to get up."

"Your father's not a wizard, right?"

"No, but he'll rip your balls off anyway."

"Well, in that case," he kissed her quickly, reaching down and tucking himself back into his pants, "I'll protect my manhood for next time."

Hermione sat up, adjusting her bra and searching for her t-shirt. She tugged it on, her head popping through the top just in time to see him sit up and begin to refasten the buttons on his shirt. She sighed as his naked chest disappeared behind the grey fabric.

He smiled up at her, sliding off the couch and kissing her once more. "Until next time then?"

She kissed him back, "And when will that be?"

"I'll send an owl."

Hermione pulled him back to her for one last, searing kiss, "I'll be ready and waiting."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **A great big thank you to everyone who has read/followed/favourited/commented on this so far, as always it's much appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Are they home?"

Hermione had a look of complete surprise on her face; he knew she wasn't expecting to see him so soon. He had told her that it would be a week before he could see her again, but he'd wanted to see her the instant he had left her three days ago.

His parents had been none too pleased when he threw a fit, refusing to be a part of their social calendar, telling them that he would not be attending one more pompous gathering of their pathetic so-called friends who only wanted to be associated with them because of the social positioning that being associated with the Malfoy's might bring them. His father had been furious, but his mother had remained silent, eyeing him in a way that made him think she knew he was up to something. But he could have cared less. A week was far too long to go without seeing her and the ridiculous brown-nosing that went on at these lunches and dinners was enough to drive him barmy.

So he refused to go, instead he stormed out of the Manor in a very sullen, Malfoy-like fashion and hoped that they wouldn't follow him. Of course he had gone to several other places before arriving on her doorstep, but had realised that if it came to a choice between keeping up appearances or following their son, the former would always be the choice.

Hermione shook her head and before she could ask him what he was doing there, his hands cupped her face and he began kissing her. A low groan sounded from the back of his throat, vibrating against her lips as she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He backed her into the entryway and kicked the door closed behind them. And they simply stood there, kissing. Kissing like they had been doing it for years.

Her mouth was hot and wet as his tongue dancing over hers, almost desperate with need, and his heart stuttered when she sighed; she wanted this as much as he did. And this kiss was so much more, he wasn't sure how, but it was more. More of everything.

"I couldn't wait any longer." He huffed pulling away from her and she tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the look of alarm on her face, "I don't want to do anything you're not ready for, but I just couldn't go one more day without seeing you."

She ran her thumb across his jaw, her eyes flicking to the stairs and she felt her cheeks heat up. She wanted to head up those stairs with him, but she was nervous. She hadn't believed _all_ the stories she'd heard about him, but what if _some_ of them were true? What if he did actually know what he was doing and she didn't? Would he still want to?

"We don't have to, the couch is very accommodating." His voice wavered and she couldn't stop the nervous giggle that escaped her. She could feel his growing erection through his trousers and knew that she didn't want to just use her hand on him again. The burning arousal that he had started in her in the alley, roared to life once more and she knew.

She let out a shaky breath, "Um, no...I, uh, want to." She squeezed his hand and led him to the stairs, telling him, "My room is right at the top." He nodded and followed her, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind; this was going to happen.

They silently climbed both flights of stairs, and she stopped outside her bedroom, "This is it. My room."

He smiled nervously and she fought to keep her face impassive. Was he nervous because it was her? Because it was her room, in her parents' house, in the middle of the day where nothing could be hidden? Regardless of what she had told Ginny, she _was_ ready. She wanted this; she had just never imagined it would be with him.

"Draco?"

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, "Are you sure?"

Hermione stepped closer and stood up on her toes to kiss him, "I am. Are _you_?"

"I want it more than anything." He whispered, "I want _you_ more than anything."

She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, "Draco, I know that if I said no, you wouldn't force me, but I came up those stairs for a reason. I meant what I said. I want this with you." She moved into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, while he hesitated at the door. She smiled at him, waiting for him to decide. And she hoped that he would cross the threshold and that this would happen.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind him. He glanced around, and a smile slowly crept across his face.

"What?" she asked.

"This is so you," He said, "It's exactly what I imagined."

Her room was simple, light and dark blues, violet and whites, with a wooden bed frame and matching bookshelves that lined the walls, straining under the weight of all her books. Her room was neat and tidy, with the exception of the large desk that sat under the window. It was barely visible it was so cluttered with parchment and quills and tea cups.

"So you like it then?"

"I told you I like white, didn't I?" He sat beside her and mused, "I wonder if you somehow knew."

Hermione punched his arm and laughed, "I did not decorate my bedroom with you in mind, you arrogant arse."

He reached out and squeezed her thigh, "Oh, I think you did. You've secretly harboured feelings for me and did this in the hope that one day I would see it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, about to give him a serve, but she realised what he was doing. For a few seconds she'd forgotten why they'd come up here, and her nerves had disappeared.

"Hermione, are you really sure about this?" His expression was serious, "I don't care how long we wait and I don't want you to think you have to, or that I'm forcing you." He reached for her hand and linked his fingers through hers, "Because we can't tell anyone about this, not even our friends. And I as much as I want to be with you forever, I don't know how we can be."

She stared into his eyes and saw the anguish. She hadn't realized just how he felt about her until this moment. They could do this in secret only and he hated the idea. She reached for his face and drew him towards her, kissing him deeply. She looked him straight in the eyes and nodded, "I want this."

She shifted back on the bed, reaching her hand out to him, wanting him to follow her. He hesitated slightly and then crawled across the bed to lay beside her.

"I hate that we can't do this in front of everyone." He sighed and her eyes went wide. His face flushed at her expression, "No! I didn't mean…I just meant… _shit!"_

Hermione laughed and stroked his cheek, "It's okay. I know what you meant and I wish we could too."

"Can you imagine it?" He said with a grin, "Everyone would think it was some kind of joke."

Hermione nodded, knowing that her friends would think she'd gone mental. "Does any of it really matter though?"

"Not to me it doesn't, not anymore." He assured her, "But-"

She cut him off, "I know Draco. No one can know. For both our sakes."

He leaned in and kissed her, and without thinking she hooked her leg over his hip, drawing him closer. He gripped her hip, his fingers digging into her, her own hand finding his hair, and she sighed. She loved the feel of it between her fingers and she silently cursed any time away from him.

He took a breath and smiled at her, his hand moving from her hip to her ribs, his eyes searching hers, seeking permission. Her heart began to beat faster, and she huffed out a small laugh. After their previous encounter, he had no reason to be nervous about any of this. Her dark eyes fluttered across his face, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip, waiting for him to touch her, but he remained still.

"It's okay Draco. Please touch me."

He took another deep breath and she knew he was trying to calm himself. His brows furrowed and she watched as a moment of indecision flashed across his eyes. But before she could ask him what was wrong, his hand was on her, squeezing gently.

Hermione sighed at his touch, her nipple instantly hardened, and before she realised it, her own hand had slipped under his shirt, feeling the smooth expanse of his stomach, the tease of fine hair just beneath his navel. His stomach clenched and he made a choking sound, his hand flying to her wrist and stopping her.

She frowned at him and then started laughing, "You're ticklish?"

"Yeah," he said with a groan, "Very ticklish."

"Hmm," Hermione said with a devilish grin, and rolled him to his back, surprising him by straddling his hips, "That makes things interesting." She pushed his shirt up his belly, but he gripped her wrists and shot her a warning glare.

"Hermione. Please don't…"

She saw the panic in his eyes, and was surprised. She didn't think something as simple as being ticklish would garner such a response from him. She nodded and changed her plan, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and exposing his torso. She sat atop him, staring down at him; his skin was pale and flawless, his nipples pink and hard. He was thin, but holy crap, he was cut, each muscle shaped and well defined. She had seen him just days ago, but with the limited space on the couch, her view had been somewhat restricted. But now he was laid out beneath her she could see every exposed inch of him.

She touched his chest, waiting for him to stop her, but he nodded and told her to _keep going_. She traced her fingers across one nipple, following the curve of his ribs to his stomach and to the happy trail of hair that vanished beneath his trousers. She leaned forward and kissed his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

"You're beautiful," she whispered and he laughed.

"Thank you," he said and reaching for the hem of her t-shirt, "May I?"

She nodded and he slowly lifted it up her body and she finished the job, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side. A shimmer of heat spread down her spine and the thought of not being enough, of being to plain and simple had a rush of self-consciousness washing over her and the need to cover herself had her lifting her arms to her chest.

But Draco stopped her, taking his hands and trailing them down her arms to the bend of her elbows. He gently pulled her arms down and he smiled up at her, his eyes gazing over her half-exposed form. She let out a nervous breath as his hands traced the valley between her breasts, fingering the edge of her bra and coming to rest just above her belly button.

Hermione was astounded at his touch. He was gentle, his face a picture of awe as his fingers continued to explore her, tracing the flat planes of her stomach, across her hips and she found she was in sudden need of him to remove her jeans and explore her further down.

His hands stilled and stared up at her as she reached behind her back, shoving all her nerves aside, to unclasp her bra. She smiled nervously at him, before slipping it down her arms and dropping it to the floor. He cursed quietly and grasped at her breasts, squeezing with a little more ferocity than he intended to. She gripped his wrists, stopping him.

"Sorry," he said, an embarrassed flush creeping down his chest.

"S'okay," Hermione murmured, "Not so hard."

He nodded, and resumed his task, gently kneading and caressing over her sensitive flesh. He sat up, his hands slipping around her hips and his fingers began to trace patterns across her lower back causing her to shiver. He leaned forward slowly to take one of her breasts into his mouth. She gasped at the sensation, and then let out a small moan when his tongue grazed over her nipple.

He pulled back at the sound, and closed his eyes for a moment; he been too rough touching her and he hoped this wasn't another error in judgement. He felt her palm on his cheek and he opened them again.

"You okay?" She was smiling sweetly at him her hand caressing his cheek and jaw.

He nodded and leaned into her touch, "Are you sure about this?"

Her hand skated through his hair and she leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, "Draco, I never dared to imagine this with you. But now I can't imagine doing this with anyone else."

He tried to bite back the smug grin but failed miserably. She laughed and kissed him again, and then yelped in surprise when he flipped them over and knelt above her. His grey eyes staring down at her with a reverence she hadn't ever expected.

She bit her lip and his look of reverence turned back into the sly grin he was famous for. He tugged at his own shirt and growled in frustration when the cuffs caught on his hands. She laughed again and told him, _Wait,_ and gently prised the buttons loose. His shirt drifted to the floor, the pile of clothes slowly stacking up beside her bed.

He lowered himself to her, their naked chests pressed together for the first time. He circled her head with his arms and began kissing her again. A kiss that was somehow quiet, as if he was trying to give himself to her and it was somehow more intimate than when her hand had been wrapped around him. Her eagerness returned, and while they were both still half clothed, the way he was kissing her had settled any nerves she had at him seeing her naked.

She knew that she could stop this, knew that even now, with him pressed on top of her, he would instantly pull away from her if she said the word. He said he would only go as far as she would allow, and she believed him. There had been something in his eyes, something she couldn't place, but she knew that he wouldn't force this.

And she knew that this was more than a one-time thing. This was not just Draco Malfoy being her first, this was something more, something intimate and real. He had admitted that he wanted more; it was near impossible but he wanted it nonetheless. And she knew that she wanted it too. Wanted him, wanted the feeling of him over her, surrounding her, wanted the chance to have this with him and only him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, not quite sure that this was real, if it was actually happening and she was wondering if it was all some heavenly dream. "It's just this. It's us. You and me."

Draco raised himself to his elbows, "It is. We can stop if you want to. This is already more than I hoped for."

"No. I want to keep going." She slipped her hands around his hips, and traced along the waistband of his trousers. And she realised that he had yet to make good on his promise of her being more involved this time. They were still half-clothed and he had just been kissing her. She didn't want to rush this, but he hadn't touched her, not down _there_ at least.

His hands hadn't ventured below her breasts, which he'd been squeezing gently, running his fingers across her hardened nipples, but that was all. He seemed to be waiting. Waiting on her to take the lead. And while his gesture was sweet and she appreciated that he wasn't rushing her, she was unsure, she'd never done this before and she had no idea what she should actually be doing.

And then it hit her.

"Draco? Have you ever...?" His face flushed and he swallowed hard. She cupped his cheek. "I haven't either," she said with a nervous smile, "It's okay if you haven't."

"You don't care that I lied to you?" He looked surprised.

"You didn't lie," she said, "You never said that you had. I just assumed that some of the stories were true."

He looked nervously at her, "You don't mind?"

She started at his question, "Why would I mind?"

"I'm a virgin," he mumbled, embarrassed again.

"So am I," she said, "Does that bother you?"

"Merlin! No." He said quickly, "But guys aren't supposed to be."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Hermione laughed and then grew serious at the look in his eyes, "Draco, I already told you I want this. I want my first time to be with you and the fact that you haven't done anything that you were rumored to have done gives us the chance to experience this together. If that's what you want."

"I thought you'd think less of me." He admitted, "I mean I have no idea what I'm doing here and it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get back at me for all the hurtful things I've ever said to you."

She shook her head, "Draco, I would never do that. Not with something like this." She paused, "Did you still want to?"

"Of course I do," He nodded and his hands went to her shorts, "I want to see you, all of you."

He fumbled with her button and growled again. She touched his hand and smiled patiently at him. She took over; loosening the button and lowering the zipper. She lifted her hips, and he finished undressing her, "Fuck," he muttered when he finally took her in. She could feel her skin heat up under his gaze, suddenly feeling vulnerable spread out naked before him. "I said you were beautiful, I was wrong. You're stunning."

"Thank you," She said with an embarrassed smile and reached for his trousers again, "I want to see you too."

Her own hands fumbled with his button, finally freeing it after several attempts, and he helped her push the fabric down, kicking his feet free. She gasped when his cock sprung free; he was hard and ready and she was surprised that he wasn't in pain from it being so confined in his pants.

During their encounter on the couch she'd only really gotten a fleeting glimpse of him, his pants had still been on and they'd been pressed together. But now she could see him in all his naked glory. He was big, at least she thought he was, she had nothing to compare him to. And she did actually wonder how he would fit inside her. He was supposed to, it was how this worked, but the thought had her wondering just how much this first time would hurt her.

He leaned up on his elbow and stared intently down at her. They were both completely naked, his cock standing straight out from his body, brushing against her hip and without hesitating she reached out and surrounded him with her hand. His breath caught as she slowly began to slide her hand up and down the length of him, stroking and squeezing and exploring his heated flesh. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She'd already touched him, brought him to pleasure, but it was still a shock to feel him this hard, this aroused, knowing that she was the reason for it.

He groaned and dropped his forehead to her chest, and she instantly let go of him, "Why'd you stop?" he choked out.

"I thought I hurt you,"

He looked up at her and shook his head, "No, your hand feels amazing. So much better than my own."

Hermione snorted a laugh, "Thank you, I think," She curled her fingers around him again and delighted in the sound that he made. Something that sounded at the same time like a sigh of relief and a gasp of excitement. She had a better view of him this time, and watched her hand glide over him, watched his foreskin slide back and forth over the head of his cock, felt him twitch in her palm. She tightened her grip, remembering how he had told her that he like it hard, and stroked him fast.

"Hermione, stop. Please." He groaned and she froze. He gave her a stunned smile, "It'll all be over if you keep doing that."

"Oh," she said shyly, internally pleased with herself for pushing him so close to the edge.

"Don't be smug, Granger," he said and she couldn't help but laugh. "We've already discovered what your hands are capable of."

She gave him one last hard squeeze, "Indeed we have, Malfoy."

He narrowed his eyes at her and leaned down to kiss her, moving lower and lower until he was level with her breast. He glanced up at her as he took her nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the hardened bud. Hermione's hand flew to his head, her heart rate instantly speeding up, as his mouth and tongue and teeth worked over her.

His hand ventured lower, stopping when he felt the trimmed hair atop her sex. He paused, waiting for her to tell him to stop, to tell him that she changed her mind and she didn't want to do this after all. But she made no comment, simply shifted her hips slightly, waiting for him to continue.

He lifted his mouth from her breast and watched his hand slip lower and lower until he was finally touching her. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but she was soft and warm and wet.

He paused and looked up at her, his cheeks going pink as he asked, "Can I taste you?"

He'd spent two days scouring the library at the Manor to find out how to do this. He knew the basic mechanics of it all, but he wanted to know more. He didn't want to disappoint her, didn't want her to think he was rubbish at this, and because he couldn't ask anyone for advice for fear of them asking just who he was planning to shag, he'd gone in search of books on the subject.

And he'd learned more than he ever thought he would; from the most clinical terms and definitions to what he could only describe as porn. He'd wondered why his parents would have them in the library - grateful that they did – but then found himself shuddering in horror and never, ever wanting to know why.

But what he had read had surprised him; women like to have a man's' mouth on them as much as men loved women to do the same. And he wanted to do what the book had said, he wanted to put his mouth on her and hear what it did to her.

Hermione nodded quickly, not really sure if she wanted him to, but he seemed eager and she didn't want to say no. He kissed her lips quickly, before moving to settle between her thighs. Her embarrassment flared under the heat of his gaze directed at her most intimate place. He surely didn't want to do this, not with his mouth.

"Spread your legs for me," he asked gently and she shifted, dropping her knees lower and opening herself to him.

He ran his finger through her and she gasped at the sensation, and then cursed when his mouth landed on her. "Draco, fuck!" she cried and then covered her mouth with her hand, sure that her neighbours had heard her.

His mouth left her momentarily, looking up at her, his eyes wide, "Was that okay?"

"Fuck yes," she hissed, "Do it again."

"As you wish." He chuckled and returned to his task with vigour. He spread her wider with his hands and found her clit, and grinned against her when her hips bucked against his mouth and she cried out again. He lowered one hand, pressing one finger against her. He circled her entrance, feeling the pooling warmth that his touch had created and gently slipped one finger inside her, and found her so amazingly tight. He wondered how on earth he would fit inside her. Not that he was bragging about the size of his dick, but he was rather concerned that she was so tiny.

She sucked in a breath and he instantly stopped.

"Hermione?"

"It's okay, just go slow."

He nodded and looked down to where his finger was disappearing into her. She was wet and slippery and his cock was straining to take his finger's place. But he held off, sliding his finger in and out of her, listening to the quiet moans and gasps and feeling the shudders his hands were causing. He slowly added another finger and instantly her body tensed, "Hermione, tell me what to do. I don't want to hurt you."

She reached her hand down and rubbed against her clit, and he watched, fascinated as she worked herself, wondering if she had done this before, done this while thinking of him. He felt her walls slowly relax around his fingers buried deep inside her, "Slow," She finally breathed, "Use your tongue on me again."

He nodded and moved his fingers slowly, lowering his mouth back to her and flicking his tongue over the place that made her breath catch and her body shiver. He kept his movements slow and began to feel her growing wetter and wetter, his fingers gliding through her with ease. She slowly rocked her hips in time with his fingers, and quietly murmured _more._ He complied with her request, and watched in wonder as she matched his speed with her hips, until her hands flew to his hair and her back arched, her entire body shaking as she came hard around his fingers.

He gently slid his fingers from her and kissed the inside of her thigh, "You okay?"

"Holy shit," she breathed, "That was...holy shit."

He crawled over her and slowly lowered himself to her, their naked bodies pressed together, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"God yes," she said, "That was amazing." She pressed her hand to his chest and reached for her wand on the nightstand, pointing it at her stomach and murmuring a spell.

He grinned at her, "Glad one of us remembered."

She laughed, "Yeah, that wouldn't be something we could hide."

"Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded and tried to relax, watching as he took himself in hand, feeling him press against her tiny opening, as he gently eased himself inside her.

"Hermione," he said softly, "Are you okay?"

She swallowed, shifting beneath him and wincing at the pain the tiny movement caused. She nodded and he frowned.

"I'm hurting you." Her silky walls were much more than he had ever imagined, but he knew that this was a completely different experience for her. He wasn't even fully inside her and the look of pain on her face was too much for him bear, "Did you want to stop?"

He began to pull away from her, but she gripped his arms, holding him still, "No," she whispered, "Stay there. Just..."

Hermione thought she had prepared herself for this moment, thought that she knew what expect. But this was nothing like anything she had imagined. She had felt a sharp, stinging pain when he entered her that was gone as soon as it came, and then an uncomfortable burning pressure, her body stretching and pulling at the foreign feeling of having him inside her. She wanted to push him away and pull him close all at once. It was insanity.

She swallowed again and Draco nodded, knowing that she needed to adjust to him, to this, to the fact that was them. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Two people who were so far removed from each other, that what they were doing now seemed completely incomprehensible.

She rocked against him, spreading her legs wider and opening herself to him. He pulled out slowly then pushed back in even slower, feeling her relax around him. He kept his movements slow and shallow, not wanting to hurt her, but she shocked him, grabbing hold of his arse and pulling him to her. He groaned; the feeling of finally pushing completely into her was indescribable. He cursed and her fingers dug deeper into his hips, as he slowly began to move through her, her discomfort dissipating with each movement until the initial pain became an exquisite pleasure.

"Hermione, _fuck!_ You feel incredible." Draco gasped, suddenly understanding why sex was more than just for procreation. This was the most amazing pleasure he'd felt in his life. She was warm, more so than he had imagined she would be, and _good holy fuck,_ so tight around him. This was nothing like what he'd pictured all those times he had used his own hand.

"So do you," she huffed, "This is…Draco…this feels…"

"I know," he breathed close to her ear, "I know."

They moved together, slowly discovering a rhythm, the friction building quickly between them. A litany of curses and moans and shared gasps filled the room, as Draco began to thrust harder into her. His face was flushed, clearly he was trying to hold on, trying to make this last, but she knew he was right on the edge.

He drove into her harder and harder, until she felt him swell inside her and he cried out. A sudden burst of heat filled her, and she gasped, her body seizing around him, squeezing him tightly as her own pleasure washed over her.

He collapsed onto her, his body still spasming, wet heat still spilling inside her. She wrapped herself around him, holding him tightly. She could barely think straight, the feeling of him over her and inside her, his warm seed filling her was completely overwhelming. She wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how perfect, how she couldn't have hoped for a better first time, but her words were lost and all she could do was hold him and press her lips to his heated skin.

"That was fucking amazing," he groaned and finally moved to lay beside her, "I want to do that again."

"Me too." she giggled and reached her hand down to his completely spent cock, "But we might have to wait a while."

"Smart arse," He laughed and pinched her hip, "Are you okay?"

She wiggled her hips, and flinched, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Draco rubbed his hand down her arm, "I didn't hurt you?"

Hermione nodded, "A little sore, but I'm okay. You're not sorry?"

Draco rolled to face her, "Never. Not in a million lifetimes will I be sorry that I did that with you."

Hermione moved closer to him, brushing her hand across his cheek, "Neither will I."


	6. Chapter 6

The station was crowded, as usual, with both students and parents alike. Hermione had spent the last few days of her holidays with the Weasley's, much to Draco's disgust, but as she had repeatedly told him, her staying with them had been pre-arranged at the beginning of summer before they had become...whatever it was that they had become.

In the two weeks since they'd first had sex, they'd managed to see each other twice more, but he'd sent an owl each day with notes that she said she would never have dreamed would come from him. He'd even gone so far as to get a new owl in an attempt to hide what they were doing, fearing that his much more recognisable owl would be seen coming and going from her window.

But of course, for three days there was nothing. He couldn't send anything, not to the Weasley's house, not with their nosey red-headed daughter sharing her room with Hermione.

He'd arrived on the platform earlier than usual, wanting to be there before her, and positioned himself near to the barrier so he could see her the second that she arrived. He'd told Crabbe and Goyle to shove off, not wanting their sorry arses to be near him, but when Pansy and Blaise approached him, he was unable to tell them the same. They would instantly know something was up.

"We've not seen you all summer, mate," Blaise said clapping him on the shoulder, "Where've you been?"

"I've been minding my business." He snarled and Blaise and Pansy shared a look. They were used to his sullen moods, but even this was something new for them.

But Draco could have cared less. He was cursing them both. He wanted to see her without anyone noticing him looking. Blaise would most likely miss it, but Pansy would no doubt recognise what was happening. Fuck the pair of them for ruining this.

And fuck the pair of them for distracting him from seeing her. She'd arrived and he'd missed it. He watched as she hugged the Weasley woman; watched as she laughed at something one of the twins said; watched as her eyes darted quickly across the platform, landing on him for less than half a second; watched the flicker of a smile cross her lips before she turned her back on him. But that was all he needed. Half a second and a tiny smile; and his cock was twitching. And he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from escaping and giving him away completely.

They'd had sex twice more since their first time, both becoming less nervous each time. It had been perfect that both her parents worked every day, giving them the privacy that teenagers were rarely exposed to. Of course, had she not been who she was, had she instead been a pureblood, he would have had no worries whatsoever in taking her to The Manor, regardless of whether his parents were there or not. They would have happily turned a blind eye to any approved pureblood girl in his bedroom and no questions would have been asked.

But now that he'd had her, he wanted no one else. Blood status meant next to nothing to him and he had told her as such. But they had also discussed the fact that they would have to be complete arseholes to each other when they returned to school. He'd have to call her mudblood; he'd called her by that name for so long now that everyone would be suspicious if he didn't. And she had agreed. But she had also told him with a smirk, that she would also have to retaliate, running her knuckles across his jaw, reminding him of just how she like to retaliate.

He'd grinned at her like a Cheshire cat, promising to not provoke her, and she had simply rolled her eyes and told him _yeah, right._

"You'd think everyone would get over that fucker." Pansy said with a sneer. She was looking directly at Harry and Draco grunted in agreement. The first years that were flooding the platform were all looking at him like he was the savoir of the world, instead of the prat that he really was.

"If he didn't have that scar on his head he wouldn't get away with half shit he does." Blaise agreed.

"I'm pretty sure he's Dumbledore's love child," Pansy said with a wicked laugh, and Draco smirked.

Both his friends were right. Potter managed to get away with murder, Dumbledore had repeatedly turned a blind eye to his antics, many of which would have had anyone else expelled. He took advantage of their conversation and looked towards her once more before mumbling to them both about getting on the train before all the good seats were taken.

"Do you think the Weasel and the mudblood have banged each other yet?" Pansy asked as they boarded the train, "Because Granger has that look about her."

Draco's jaw clenched and he felt his pulse quicken. He knew that they hadn't, knew that he'd been the one to put that look on her face, but Pansy's assumption had him reeling.

"His dick wouldn't be big enough to put a smile on anyone's face," Blaise chortled, "Except maybe Potter's."

The pair laughed, but Draco ignored them. He already hated this and the year hadn't even started.

* * *

Hermione stared out the window, watching as the city slowly disappeared and vast expanses of fields took its place. The conversation whirled around her but she was barely listening. Seamus and Dean had joined them, along with Neville, and the current conversation regarding Quidditch held about as much interest to her as grass growing.

She'd not once in all the years she'd attended Hogwarts had she ever seen Draco on the platform. She had to admit she'd never really looked for him, but he had always seemed to be first on the train, procuring the best compartment for himself and his cronies. But there he had been, leaning against a pillar, scowling his usual scowl and looking to be deep in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.

And then he had looked at her, his eyes clearing and his face relaxing, and she instantly knew he was there to see her. She had held his gaze for less than a second and had to bite back the smile so her friends wouldn't notice and ask why on earth she was smiling at Malfoy.

But they didn't know him. Not the Draco Malfoy that she knew. And they never would know him. Her three days at The Burrow had been a mild form of torture. His daily owls had stopped and she missed the notes he would send – cute and funny, sweet and romantic, crude and salacious – and she had to admit, the dirty ones were her favourites. Of course, she couldn't keep them, burning each one the day after she'd received it, her heart heavy as she watched the flames eat the pieces of parchment that she so longed to keep.

She sent her own back to him, but hers were cryptic, nothing like his. But they had to be. Her parents had no interest in what the owls were bringing to her, assuming that it was just the Weasley's or Harry, but his parents, she was sure, were more suspicious and if he didn't collect her notes directly they would question him for sure.

And Ginny had pestered her relentlessly, asking about her mystery boyfriend and wanting to know if they had _done the deed_ while her parents were out. Hermione had tried to take Ginny's teasing with a good natured humour, but she finally cracked the previous night, telling Ginny to shut the hell up, before stomping into the Weasley's yard and conjuring up a tent to sleep in, underage magic be damned.

She'd woken to a furious Molly Weasley - furious at Ginny, not her - and had felt mildly guilty as Molly lectured her only daughter on how she had been raised to respect people and to not pry into their lives. Ginny had been sheepish, apologising to her and hoping that they were still friends. And promising that the subject of boys wouldn't be raised again.

"Are you okay?" Ginny's voice was quiet and she had a look of concern on her face.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, just thinking."

Ginny gave her a small smile and Hermione knew she was itching to know just what - or who - she was thinking about.

"I'm just worried about how busy this year is going be." It was only half a lie, she _was_ concerned about their workload this coming year, "It's going to be way more than last year. I mean, we've almost finished, only one more year after this one. And then we have to decide what we want to do, and I just don't know how I'm going to fit it all in."

Ginny bumped her with her shoulder, "Oh please, Miss I'm-the-most-organised-person-at-school. You've already got it nailed and we haven't even started."

Hermione blushed, "I'm not sure that's true."

"What's that fucking git up to?" she heard Ron snarl, and looked up to see Draco passing by the compartment. Their eyes met and she blushed, instantly looking away. "That's the third time he's walked past."

Hermione frowned, "He's allowed to walk along the train Ronald."

They all turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, "Um, yeah, but he's looked in here each time."

Hermione shook her head, and cursed herself. She'd just defended Draco to her friends. "Well, Harry is in here, and we all know how much he hates him."

"Maybe," Harry said eyeing her, "But I'm sure Ron's right, we should see what he's up to."

Hermione let out a frustrated huff, "We haven't even started school yet and you already want to cause trouble? Whatever he's up to doesn't concern us, so just leave it be."

"Not a chance," Harry grinned at her, "Invisibility cloak. He won't even know."

She rolled her eyes as Ron and the others clapped him on the back for his brilliance, but she just shook her head. She sighed and went back to staring out the window, failing to notice Ginny watching her.

She loved her friends dearly, but sometimes they drove her mad with their single-mindedness. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

* * *

"Oh, it's your birthday, is it mudblood?"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, not sure what he was up to. They were leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, headed for their first class of the day. They were surrounded by their fellow students and he chose now to make a scene?

They'd all but avoided each other for over two weeks now, only sharing stolen glances and the occasional smile. They had sat as far apart as possible in all the classes they shared and Hermione had even gone so far as to make sure that every time she was seated in the Great Hall her back was to him. It was ridiculous really, no one was aware of anything between them, and the obvious lengths they were taking to avoid each other were obvious to no one but themselves.

"I'm sure there will be some pathetic mudblood party later on."

She turned to face him amid the guffaws from the Slytherins and smiled sweetly at him, "Yes Malfoy. It is my birthday. I'm flattered that you know."

He balked, and she stifled a laugh, sure that he wasn't expecting her to respond. But she'd warned him, so if he made himself look a fool, well, she'd remind him of it later.

His lip curled into a sneer, "It was kind of hard not to notice with the rubbish singing from this lot." He nodded at the Gryffindors, "I don't know why they'd bother for a filthy mudblood such as you."

Hermione simply shook her head at him, "Really Malfoy. That's the best you've got? After all these years, all you can come up with is mudblood?"

"If the name suits, mudblood."

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy," Ginny snapped, but Hermione held her hand up, silencing her.

She stepped closer to him, and she saw the look of concern flash across his eyes, he was worried about what she was actually going to do "Maybe you should live in the muggle world just for a bit. You might actually learn how to insult someone. Mudblood is just a pathetic term used by a spoiled man-child such as yourself because you cannot come up with anything better."

He was glaring at her, and for a split second she thought he was going to step forward and kiss her. "Is that true?" he snarled, "Then please enlighten me to the scummy ways of your disgusting people."

She stepped closer again and in the silence that had fallen around them a pin dropping would most certainly have been heard. She narrowed her eyes at him and if the look on his face was any indication, she was sure that if he wasn't trying to be a hero in front of his friends he would have taken a step back. "If it's scummy and disgusting that you want, you need only look in a mirror."

His nostrils flared and the crowd around them gasped. Hermione Granger was giving Draco Malfoy a piece of her mind. The same Hermione Granger who usually ignored him. The only time she had retaliated was when she punched his jaw in their third year and now she was standing toe to toe with him again, and not backing down. They'd all be talking about this for weeks to come.

"And while you're looking in that mirror, take note of just how much effort you put into thinking about me. The only people here who care about the colour of my blood are you and snake-like cohorts, and for someone who continually tells everyone just how much he hates me, you seem to spend a vast amount of time concerning yourself with who I am and what I'm doing. I, on the other hand, could care less about you. I don't think about you ever. You mean nothing to me. I don't even care if you're alive or dead. I simply. Don't. Care."

She saw the flicker of delight in his eyes, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Even though they had agreed to behave this way, she was sure she had taken it too far. She certainly _did_ care, and she certainly didn't wish him dead. But the look in his eyes told her that he knew she wasn't serious, and this little display had been purely so that he could actually speak to her without suspicion.

She poked a finger into his chest, "So Malfoy, if you think that calling me mudblood concerns me at all, you'd be wrong. But if it's the best you can come up with, by all means continue to do so."

She turned on her heel and sauntered away, leaving her classmates stunned and a sudden burst of whispers in her wake.

"Merlin's balls!" Blaise huffed, looking impressed, "Who the hell knew the mudblood had it in her?"

Draco was staring at the place that Hermione had just vacated, trying not to smirk. He in fact did know that she had it in her, and was extremely grateful at that moment for the billowing robes surrounding him. eHe Her fiery reaction had him instantly hard, almost painfully so, and the urgent need to chase after her had him digging his nails into his palms to keep his feet planted to the ground.

" _Definitely_ got her rocks off over summer," Pansy quipped, "There's no way she would have done that unless someone fucked some confidence into her."

Draco turned on her and she took a step back, "Fucking shut up Pansy."

Pansy's eyes went wide, "Draco, what-?"

"I don't want to think about what she and her filthy friends got up to over summer." He snapped and pushed past the group of Slytherins surrounding him. He dropped his head to look at his feet as he stormed away, hiding the grin that broke through.

His fiery little Gryffindor.

He couldn't wait to finally get her alone and teach her a lesson on just how to use that mouth of hers.

* * *

The whispers and looks of awe followed her throughout the day. It was attention she didn't want. And she had been cursing him all day for provoking her. She couldn't look at him, couldn't smile, terrified that everyone would be watching and finally notice what was going on between the pair.

She'd hidden at lunch, refusing to eat in the Great Hall, not wanting the eyes of every student on her. But dinner was a different story. She had no choice but to attend. Dumbledore made much of each student's birthday, expecting the entire student body to sing 'Happy Birthday' at dinner. Unfortunately she shared her birthday with no one, so the singing would be directed only at her, and she'd already had enough attention today.

She sighed, standing outside the Hall, waiting for Harry and Ginny, who were conveniently late. She shook her head, not wanting to know what was holding them up, but she was sure that Ginny would give her a full run down when they returned to the common room after dinner, whether she wanted to hear about it or not.

"Hermione?" a voice behind her made her jump. She spun around to see a first year Hufflepuff boy looking at her; his eyes were wide and extremely nervous.

"What?" she said more harshly than she intended, her heart still racing from the scare he'd just given her.

"Um, sorry," He murmured and looked down at his feet, "I, um, just...give you..." He held out his hand which had a folded piece of parchment in it. The familiar H on the front had her heart stopping for a second.

It was Draco's hand writing. And he'd sent a note with this child, who would no doubt be bragging in the next few days that he'd done the bidding of Draco Malfoy and given a secret letter to Hermione Granger. She swore in her head at him for being so stupid.

She cleared her throat, "And who is it from? You?"

He shook his head, "N-no," he stammered, "A house elf gave it to me and said I was to give it to you." He looked at the parchment as if terrified that it would burst into flames in his hands, "I didn't read it. I promise. The elf said I would have a curse on me if I opened it."

Hermione held back her smile; Draco wasn't so stupid after all. She reached out and took it from the boy, who looked relieved to not have it in his possession any longer. "Thank you," Hermione said and the boy scampered off without another word.

The threat of death; typical Malfoy. She shouldn't have doubted him. A house elf couldn't tell a soul who had given it a letter to deliver, and the young boy was far too fearful to even mention it to anyone. He'd probably already forgotten, she was sure that Draco would have charmed the parchment to make him forget.

Cunning and resourceful. Slytherin through and through.

She unfolded the paper and quickly read its contents. No sweet verses or kind sentiments, not even any filthy innuendos. Just a time and a place, and a D signed at the bottom. It would be the first time they would be alone since they'd arrived back at school.

"What are you grinning at?" Ginny asked and her heart was in her throat once more.

"What is it with everyone creeping up on me today?" Hermione snarked, "You scared the shit out of me!"

Ginny laughed and Harry grinned beside her. His hair was a mess, and Hermione thought to tell him, but found that she would rather see the look on his face when Ginny's brother's asked what the hell he had been doing for his hair to be so messed up.

"Well, clearly something important has your attention," Ginny said with a sly grin. She eyed the parchment Hermione was holding, "A letter from a secret admirer perhaps?"

"Yes, actually, it is." She smiled sarcastically at Ginny, "But this is a brand new one."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Nice try. You would never admit it if it was. It's from your parents, isn't it? For your birthday?"

Hermione laughed and nodded. _That was easy._ "Yeah, it is." She replied and followed them into the din of the Great Hall, her dread of just moments ago disappearing and the thought of seeing him alone taking its place.

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione pulled him aside from the impromptu party that her fellow Gryffindors had thrown her, a celebration, they said, of both her birthday and her putting Malfoy in his place. Harry looked questioningly at her and she asked, "Can I borrow your cloak tonight?"

Harry frowned, "Why? What's going on? Is something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. I'm fine. Nothing's going on. I just need to..." she trailed off. She hadn't really thought this through. She figured she would just ask him and he would let her have it, no questions asked.

"Hermione?" His face was full of concern, "If there's something you need help with..."

"No, it's nothing like that," She could feel her cheeks heating up, "I just need it Harry. Please trust me?"

He stood looking at her, and what seemed like an eternity passed before he finally smiled and nodded, "Of course. Just be safe, okay?"

She nodded, and assured him she would. He had agreed to meet her in the common room after everyone had gone to bed, which she hoped wouldn't be late, but since it was a school night the party would most likely wind down relatively soon.

And it did. The common room had been vacated by 10.30 and she was waiting nervously for Harry to come back down the stairs.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

She stood and took the cloak from him, "Everything's fine Harry. I promise I'll tell you, I just can't right now."

Harry nodded and watched as she wrapped the cloak around her, disappearing beneath it.

"Thank you Harry," she whispered and headed out the door.

She turned left and headed up the stairs, forcing herself to walk slowly for fear her footsteps would be heard. Harry's cloak hid you perfectly, but it didn't muffle sounds. She had roamed the castle with Harry and Ron at all hours, but on her own, at night, it was rather disconcerting. She slowly wound her way through corridors and hallways, up stairs and around corners, until she finally arrived at her intended destination.

She stopped in front of what appeared to be a wall and pressed her hand against it. The Room of Requirement. And Draco would be on the other side.

She stepped through, letting the cloak drop to the floor, and her breath was taken away. The room was dim, a fire lit and burning low in the hearth, and the only light was from the silver-white beams of light of the moon filtering in through the large window. Draco was sitting on the leather couch that had been placed beneath the window and she heard the sigh of breath he let out, as if he wasn't expecting her to actually come.

The only other furniture in the room was a large bed, which she gave a fleeting glance as she made her way across the room to him. He stood to greet her, his mouth instantly finding hers without uttering a word. He shoved his hands into her hair, his tongue darting out and licking at her bottom lip, enticing her to open for him. And the moment her lips parted, his tongue thrust in, flicking over hers and delighting in the moan she let out.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing him back with equal fervour, slowly slipping her hands lower and gripping his arse. He grinned against her mouth and pulled back.

"Happy birthday Hermione." He smiled at her, the smile she had become accustomed to, the one that reached his eyes and made her feel like this wasn't just a teenage fling.

"Thank you," she said, "And sorry about this morning."

Draco laughed, "Nothing to be sorry about. You warned me about provoking you. I deserved it."

She let go of his arse and ran her hands up and across his chest, brushing her fingers along the back of his neck and finally sliding through his hair, "You're right, you _did_ deserve it." She pulled his face back to hers, she hadn't kissed him in what seemed like forever and she needed his mouth on hers.

Their tongues tangled and their lips pressed together, harder and with more force than either had experienced before. They both moaned at the sensation, both desperate for more. Their tongues fought for dominance, and Draco's hands left her hair, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

"Shit," He gasped when they finally broke for air, "I can't go that long without you again." He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap so her knees landed beside his hips. He ran his hands along her thighs and he looked up into her eyes.

She linked her fingers behind his neck and smiled down at him, "So that little performance this morning was your way of saying you missed me?"

"No," he grinned at her, "That was me just being an arse."

Hermione laughed, "Well done then, because that was certainly arse-worthy."

He pinched her hip, "And might I say, well played Granger."

"Surely you expected nothing less?" she scoffed.

He ran his hand across his jaw, "I really should have known not to provoke you, right?"

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Well you are very pretty, you can't be expected to be smart as well."

He narrowed his eyes at her and, in a move that explained why he was the Slytherin seeker, picked her up, landing her on her back and hovering over her. "I've already told you you're far too mouthy for your own good." He ran his thumb across her lips, "Maybe I should teach this pretty little mouth a lesson. Give it something else to tongue lash."

Her face turned a bright shade of red and she stammered incoherently. _Surely he didn't mean...?_

Draco watched as the flirty smile left her and was replaced with something akin to terror. "Hermione?"

She looked past his face, focusing on the ceiling, "Draco, I don't know if I can do that."

 _Shit_! He swore inside his head, his comment wasn't meant to kill the mood. "Hermione, no. I was just messing around. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to." He brushed her hair away from her face and smiled down at her. "Sorry."

She smiled weakly at him, "Is that something you want me to do?"

His lips twisted into a smile of his own, "I wouldn't say no to it, but you don't have to."

She licked her lips and glanced down, her mind racing a mile a minute. He put his mouth on her each of the three times they been together, and while she'd been hesitant for him to do it the first time, she'd not protested again. She reached her hand down and brushed her fingers across the front of his trousers, feeling the steadily growing bulge beneath the soft fabric. What would he taste like? Would he even fit in her mouth? Would he come in her mouth?

The thought made her shudder, and her eyes lifted back to his. Her cheeks flamed red again when she said, "I'd like to try it."

Draco's eyebrows winged up to his hairline, shocked that she wanted to. "You don't have to. It's your birthday, you don't have to do that for me."

She chewed her lip and looked thoughtfully at him, "Maybe next time then?"

"I can work with that." He shot her a sly grin, "Now, tell me what it is you want for your birthday?"

Her voice dipped low, "What I want is for you to kiss me."

Draco's lips brushed against hers, softly at first, gentle, sweet kisses that had her relaxing beneath him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, digging her hands into his hair and pulling him down so their chests were pressed together. His mouth moved from hers and placed gentle kisses all over her neck. He slipped open the top buttons on her shirt and kissed along her exposed collar bone.

She brushed her fingers over his hand, "Undress me."

Draco pushed up onto his knees and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the white lace bra beneath it. His eyes raked across her now exposed flesh, his jaw clenching, his gaze burning with lust. His fingers traced over the lace covering her, "This is new."

She nodded, "Do you like it?"

"Oh, yeah. I like it."

He maneuvered her shirt from her body, and quickly followed suit with his own. She reached her hands towards him, but he caught her wrists and pinned them over her head and lowered his body on top of her, kissing down her throat and stopping in the space between her breasts. He smiled up at her as he pressed soft kisses all around one breast.

Hermione sighed and absently carded her fingers through his hair when his grip on her wrists loosened. She watched as he lowered one cup, and sucked in a breath when he wrapped his lips around her hardened nipple. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the tingling sensations spreading throughout her.

She'd had to stifle a giggle when she'd asked how he'd known what he was doing – at least seemingly so – when they'd had sex for the first time and he'd told her he'd read a book. But now all her laughter was gone and she was silently thanking him for doing so. And silently reminding herself to ask to borrow that book.

"Hermione?" His voice broke into her thoughts and she opened her eyes to look at him, "Can you lift your hips for me?"

She did as he requested and chewed on her lip as he slid her jeans down her legs.

"Shit," He whispered when he saw the matching white lace knickers she was wearing. "I thought it was _your_ birthday." She arched an eyebrow at him and he let out a breath, "It feels like _I'm_ unwrapping a gift."

Hermione laughed, "Cheesy."

Draco shook his head, "I disagree. You're fucking amazing."

Hermione blushed. She wasn't sure that she was amazing, she thought herself as just average. There was nothing particularly special about her and with the exception of Viktor, she'd rarely had any attention from the opposite sex. Even Ron hadn't noticed her, even though she'd tried her hardest to get him to. Draco had been the only one to take any time to truly see her. He had repeatedly told her how much he liked her, how much he cared for her, how beautiful he thought her. And even though she didn't think herself to be shallow when it came to looks, she delighted in the fact that he thought her beautiful.

For a moment Draco simply stared at her, "Do you have any idea how I feel about you?"

Hermione reached up and touched his cheek, "If it's the same way I feel about you, then yes I do."

His mouth was back on hers, kissing her over and over until she was gasping for air. He reached behind her back as she arched in to him, unclasping her bra and pulling it free, his mouth instantly closing around her nipple. Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever get enough of the feel of his mouth on her. He moved lower, slowly kissing his way down her stomach, across her hip and to the top of her thigh. He looped his fingers into the waistband of her knickers, slowly easing them down her legs. She had another surprise for him, and he gasped when he saw her naked skin.

"Hermione…what..?" He looked stunned.

"Ginny was talking about it, and I thought I'd try it." She let out the breath she'd been holding, "Do you like it?"

He didn't answer, instead he brushed his fingertips over her bare flesh, leaning down and placing a kiss on her smooth skin. She spread her legs wider and he groaned, trailing his tongue along the wet slip of her pink flesh. He circled and flicked at her clit, slipping a finger into her, searching for the elusive spot his book said would drive her wild.

Her head thumped back onto the pillow as his finger passed over the tender spot inside her. She gripped his hair and whispered, _right there,_ and groaned as he circled and pressed his finger inside her, while his tongue continued to lick at her.

Hermione shuddered and clamped her legs against his head. She choked out his name and bucked against his mouth. Draco gripped her thighs, parting them and lifting his head to watch as her orgasm washed over her. He kissed the inside of her thigh, and quickly stood. He unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down, kicking them away from his feet. His dick was rock hard, standing straight out from his body and demanding entrance into hers.

He crawled over her and she lifted her legs over his hips. He smiled down at her as she reached between them, her fingers wrapping around him and pressing the swollen head against her. He lingered there for a moment, his eyes locking on hers, before slowly pushing inside her, his cock slipping through the slick, wet heat that his tongue had caused.

She winced. The pain of the first time was only a memory, but the feeling of him so big inside her was still taking some getting used to.

He held still over her, waiting for her to relax, "Tell me when," He whispered and she nodded.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before slowly shifting her hips to rock against him. She sighed and looked up at him, smiling. "I'm okay." She told him and he began to slide through her. He started slow, rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, gritting his teeth at the tightness of her around his cock.

"I'll never get enough of you," Draco growled against her ear, "You're mine Hermione. No one else will ever get to be with you. Only me."

Instead of being incensed by his possessiveness, Hermione felt a heady rush of power. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tightened her legs around his hips, pulling him to her in a claim of her own. He belonged to her. He might see it differently, but it was the simple truth. She owned his arse.

Draco pulled his knees up, his thighs pressed against the backs of hers, sliding almost completely out of her and glancing down between them to watch himself disappear entirely back into her. He rolled his hips, rubbing his pelvis over her clit as he buried himself inside her over and over, while she kissed his throat and collar bone.

"Fuck…" he cursed and jerked against her when she bit his shoulder.

She giggled and kissed the red mark, "Just marking what's mine."

He closed his eyes and swore again, "Yes..." he choked out, "Yours."

"And I'm yours," Hermione whispered into his ear, grinding herself against him and kissing at his shoulder and chest.

He steadied his thrusts which had become erratic, slowing down and pumping gently through the tightness around his cock. He gasped as she squeezed him, pulsating tightly around him, and her desperate moan of _more,_ had him squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw so as not to come too quickly.

She rolled her hips in time with his and Draco groaned, dropping his mouth to hers and kissing her fiercely. He whispered against her lips; how hot she was, how tight her pussy felt around his cock, how hard her nipples were against his chest.

Hermione whimpered at his words, her lips parting in a breathy "Oh!" and she tensed and shuddered, clamping down hard on his cock. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she moaned out her release.

Draco watched her fall apart beneath him. This was all still very new to him, but he delighted in the way her skin flushed red when she found her release. The way her eyes closed tightly shut and the 'O' her mouth made, she was even more beautiful in that moment and he had made his mind up that he would be the only one to ever see her when she came.

His own release wasn't far behind. A drop of sweat dripped from his forehead and his own skin flushed red as he continued to plunge into her, grunting into her neck with each thrust until his breath caught and his back arched, a rush of heat raced down his spine and he buried himself to the hilt, exploding inside her.

He kissed her throat, her shoulder, her mouth, "Always mine."

Hermione smiled. She should have been put off by his possessiveness, by him claiming her, but she instead she found his words endearing and sincere. She stroked her hand across his back and murmured, "Always yours."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Again, thanks for reading and reviewing. As always, your comments are very much appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was late.

And Hermione was never late. Not for anything. But there was no getting around it. She was late.

She'd not noticed her first missed period - which should have been two weeks after her birthday - because she had been far too distracted with naked images of Draco (and _actual_ naked Draco) constantly flitting through her head, but the realisation had hit her when she noticed that the box of tampons in her draw was still unopened.

She'd been in a stupor for two days. Not knowing how to tell him, or if she should even tell him. Of course he had the right to know, but they weren't supposed to be together, hell, they weren't even supposed to be friends. But here she was, possibly pregnant with the child of the son one of the most intolerant families she had ever known. She would never be accepted by them, nor would this child, and she knew that Draco would have to pretend that none of this ever happened and would have to lie and say that she was making it all up.

Her emotions had been stark in their contrast; random bouts of joy of the likes she'd never felt before and tears of desperation and anger at herself for being so stupid and careless. And the constant internal questions were driving her insane; if she was pregnant, what was she going to do? Was she ready to have a child? Ready to be a mother? Should she even keep the baby? How could she possibly not keep it? And if she told him, she had no idea how he'd react, or what he would expect her to do. And it was the latter that she was most terrified of.

It was one thing to have feelings for Draco that seemed to be growing deeper and deeper each time she was with him; those feelings could be hidden. But these new feelings were a constant roller coaster of ups and downs and it was something she'd not been prepared for. And the fact that she was having to deal with all of this at the same time while trying her best to stay attentive in class so she wouldn't have to be subjected to the enquiring minds of her friends, had meant two days of absolute insanity.

And to top it all off, she had woken that morning with a start and had sprinted for the bathroom, vomiting the entire contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

And her fears were virtually confirmed.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant with Draco's child.

She sat on the tiled floor of the Gryffindor girls bathroom, leaning her head back on the wall. She closed her eyes, thinking back to when this could have possibly happened, and realising that neither of them had cast a contraceptive charm on her birthday. She'd not even thought about it.

And it was that thought that had her vomiting again.

A knock on the door startled her. "Hermione?" Pavarti's voice sounded concerned, "Are you alright?"

Hermione coughed, "Yeah," she managed to call out, "I'm just not feeling well. I'll be out in a minute."

"Do you need Madam Pomfrey?"

 _Fuck no!_ Hermione wanted to yell, but instead told her "No. I think I'll be fine."

She sat on the floor for another minute, before slowly getting to her feet. She rinsed her mouth at the basin and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

 _Pregnant_.

 _Seventeen_ and pregnant.

And barely seventeen at that. Her birthday had been just short of six weeks ago and her preoccupation with Draco had managed to completely distract her. They'd been meeting in secret every chance they could, going at it like rabbits, and she wondered if the fact that she'd been almost craving him, had been almost desperate for him, had been the first sign - besides her unnoticed missed period - that she was pregnant; horny pregnant hormones and all that.

Her hand flew to her belly. S _hit!_ , they'd used charms each time since. Had they done any damage? She didn't want to go to Madame Pomfrey, but now she'd _have_ to. She had to find out for sure if she was pregnant, and if she was, had they had they hurt their baby.

Their baby.

 _Their_ baby.

Draco's and hers.

She pressed her palm to her forehead and another wave of nausea washed over her. She sunk back to her knees and leaned over the toilet again and, thinking it not possible to have another thing in her stomach to bring up, discovered she was wrong. It was possible.

She felt her hair being drawn from her face and a hand gently circled over her back. "I think we need to get Madam Pomfrey," Ginny said quietly, "This is _not_ fine."

Hermione looked over her shoulder. Ginny was looking at her with a grimace, as were both her roommates, Parvati and Lavender. Parvati handed her a damp wash cloth and she wiped it across her face.

"I'll be fine." Hermione's voice was gravelly and raw, her throat stinging.

Lavender filled a glass with water and passed it to her, Hermione's hand shaking as she sipped it. "Ginny's right," Lavender said, "You're not fine. I don't think I've ever seen you this sick."

Ginny pressed her palm to Hermione's forehead, a gesture that was so similar to that of Molly Weasley that Hermione almost laughed. "Merlin! You're on fire."

"Thanks mum," Hermione deadpanned and then repeated her words, "I'm fine. I probably ate something that didn't sit well with me."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Do you think?"

Hermione gripped the basin and tried to pull herself off the floor, but another wave of nausea hit her and she sat back down. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, I'm getting Professor McGonagall," Parvati stated, "You're not going to classes today so you can spread your germs to the rest of us." She turned quickly and virtually ran out of the door before Hermione could protest.

Lavender couldn't help but giggle at the look on Hermione's face, "Oh, come on Hermione. One day of missed classes won't hurt you. Besides, you probably know everything they're going to teach us anyway"

"I hate to say it," Ginny said with a grin, "But Lavender's right."

"Merlin help us," Hermione muttered under her breath and then smiled up at Lavender, "Parvati's probably right. It might be best that I stay away from everyone today."

Ginny held back a laugh at Hermione's blatant dismissal of Lavender's suggestion, "Maybe you should go back to bed."

She stood and held her hands out. Hermione reached up and let Ginny pull her from the floor. Her stomach lurched, but she stood still until the feeling passed.

"Alright?" Ginny asked.

Hermione let out a breath, "Yeah. Bed sounds good."

* * *

Hermione stood in the shower, her eyes closed and the water falling all over her. She'd lost track of time, but since Professor McGonagall had banished her from classes, and the library, and had been virtually confined to her room, she wasn't concerned. In fact, she could hardly focus on anything for longer than a few minutes at a time.

Ginny and Harry had stopped in at lunch time to see how she was doing. Ron apparently was busy. Hermione had rolled her eyes at them, _busy with Lavender,_ she had asked and the fact that neither of them could look her in the eye, told her she was right. She had assured them she was fine, on both accounts. She felt much better, and she was perfectly okay with Ron and Lavender being together. She was no longer interested in him in that way.

Harry had lingered, ensuring that she was telling the truth, that Ron hadn't broken her heart. She'd laughed at him and hugged him, thanking him for his concern, and no, Ron hadn't broken her heart.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" Harry had asked, "You've been a little...different."

Hermione smiled, "Nothing's wrong, Harry. I'm just busy and just trying to figure out what I'll do after all this."

"You're far too busy," Harry told her, "And I'm sure you already know where you're headed."

Hermione smiled and nodded, thinking _if you only knew, Harry._ She'd still been smiling when he left, forgetting for just a few moments her conversation with Madam Pomfrey. She'd been to see the school nurse at Professor McGonagall's insistence and she hoped and prayed that she would keep her word.

 ***** DMHG *****

 _"_ _Ah, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey greeted Hermione as she made her way into the hospital wing, "Professor McGonagall said to expect you. You're not feeling well?"_

 _"_ _Yes, Madam Pomfrey, I, ah..." She glanced around. The wing was empty, but the room was large and echoed, and the questions she had she wanted to keep private._

 _Madam Pomfrey frowned at her, "Hermione? Is there something you need to ask more privately?" Hermione nodded and Poppy Pomfrey smiled, "Well, come then my dear."_

 _Hermione followed her into the small office she occupied at the rear of the hospital ward and sat in the chair opposite the school nurse._

 _And the silence stretched between them._

 _"_ _Hermione, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's happening." Madam Pomfrey said._

 _Hermione took a deep breath, "Um, I was just wondering about, um...contraceptive charms." She looked down at her lap, her cheeks flaming red._

 _Madam Pomfrey pressed her lips together, hiding the smile that she always had to when the young girls started coming to her with these questions. "Well, what is it that you would like to know?"_

 _"_ _Can they harm...I mean...if, um, someone was already pregnant, could they...the charms...harm the baby?"_

 _Madam Pomfrey frowned, "No. There would be no adverse effects. Why are you asking-" Her eyes went wide, "Oh."_

 _Hermione finally looked up at her, "I don't think I have a stomach bug." She wasn't sure what to expect, but the look of shock on the school nurse's face was something she supposed she would have to get used to._

 _"_ _Well, let's get you checked out then." Madam Pomfrey's voice was suddenly professional, but the shock was still there. The last thing she had ever expected was Hermione Granger sitting across from her and telling her that she was pregnant._

 _Hermione simply nodded, and remained silent, watching closely as she performed spells and administered potions. Hermione noted that Madam Pomfrey seemed to be being especially gentle, as if scared she would harm her._

 _"_ _Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione said quietly after about ten minutes of silence, "Is everything okay?"_

 _She smiled at her, "Everything is fine, Hermione." She squeezed her hand, "You're definitely pregnant, my dear. And the charms haven't harmed the baby in any way."_

 _Hermione closed her eyes._ Definitely pregnant. _She wasn't sure if those were the words she had wanted to hear. She had already assumed that she was, but to have it confirmed, to have it made real, well, she wasn't sure how she felt. She was sure joy and elation was what most people felt, but terror was the first thing that came to her mind._

 _And that was how she felt. Scared._

 _Madam Pomfrey sat beside her, and took her hand, "Does the-"_

 _"_ _No. He doesn't know. Not yet." Hermione cut her off, shaking her head, "I haven't decided..."_

 _"_ _Haven't decided what to do?" the nurse asked gently._

 _Hermione nodded, "I don't know what to do. I'm scared of what this means."_

 _"_ _My dear, you have to decide what's best for you. Don't let anyone influence your decision." She smiled at Hermione, "But I will have to inform-"_

 _"_ _Oh, please, no!" Hermione exclaimed, "Do you really have to tell everyone? Please don't. No one can know. I won't be safe if anyone knows." The words were out before she'd realised what she'd said._

 _Madam Pomfrey looked alarmed. Hermione's outburst was very out of character for the bright, young witch. "Hermione? Why wouldn't you be safe?"_

 _"_ _I just wouldn't." She'd sat up, her voice was panicked and her heart was racing, "Please Madam Pomfrey, you can't tell anyone. Not until I decide. Please?"_

 _Madam Pomfrey looked her, her brow furrowed. Hermione sighed, "Well, I guess if you have to tell Professor Dumbledore. But can you wait a day. I'll have to leave the school before anyone else finds out."_

 _"_ _Hermione. It cannot be as bad as all that."_

 _Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, "It is that bad. The father is...not like me."_

 _"_ _Oh," the nurse said, the realisation dawning on her, "Oh. I see. I do have to tell Professor Dumbledore, but I can wait until the Christmas break. Will that be enough time for you to decide?"_

 _"_ _Thank you Madam Pomfrey," Hermione nodded, grateful for her discretion. Her hand went to her stomach, "You have saved our lives."_

 ***** DMHG *****

The water washed over her, hotter than she should probably have had it, but it was easing the ache she felt. She knew she was in shock, and right in that moment, she had never felt so alone in all her life. She couldn't tell any of them, despite what they'd all been through together. There was no way they would ever understand why she'd been shagging Draco.

 _No,_ she told herself. _They'd not just been shagging. It was more than that._

Her heart twisted each and every time she saw him, and she knew that what was happening between them was much more than just sex. His declarations of being hers, only and always hers, had become constant, and she hated that she couldn't be with him, that they had to hide.

Did she love him? At seventeen, she had no idea. But she knew that he was more important to her than she ever thought possible. He had managed to get under her skin, had managed to make her see another side of him that he kept hidden from the rest of the world. It had only been a little over three months since he'd first kissed her, but in that short time she had come to know him. She knew the feel of his breath on her skin; the way he would smile at her when he thought she wasn't looking; the way his brows would knit together when he was concentrating in class. The little things were piling up in a Draco catalogue that was growing day by day.

And the tiny life that now resided inside her meant that a part of him would always be hers. She wanted this baby. Wanted it more than she thought she would and the fact that it was a part of him made her want it even more. But that meant she couldn't stay at school. It meant that with everything that was coming, she would have to hide from him and keep their child safe. And it meant she couldn't tell him. If he knew, it would spell disaster for them both.

Her hand went to her belly and she choked out a sob. For two days she'd managed to keep it together, but now that it was real, now that Madam Pomfrey had confirmed that she was in fact pregnant, she lost it. She slid down the wall and landed heavily on the tiled floor, curling her knees to her chest and letting her tears fall in earnest.

She cried for herself, that she would have to leave here. Leave the place that she loved so much. She cried for Draco, cried because she should have been with him forever, and had so little time left with him.

But mostly she cried for their child that would grow up without him, the child that would have to be hidden from him and his family for its own safety. The child that one day she hoped would get to meet him and wouldn't hate her for taking it away from him.

She sat curled against the wall for what seemed to be age and it was only Ginny's voice from the other side of the door that pulled her out of her daze.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

She flicked her wrist towards the door, not even realising that she'd unlocked it using wandless magic.

"Hermione?" Ginny had obviously expected her to be on the other side of the door when she opened it, and was stunned when she saw her friend curled on the floor of the shower. She reached in and turned the water off and covered Hermione's trembling body with a large towel, running her hands over the fluffy fabric in an attempt to sooth her, "Shit! Hermione, what's happened?"

She looked up at Ginny's face, seeing panic and terror. "I'm..." she choked on her words, "I can't...tell...you."

Ginny sat on the wet floor in front of her, and took her hands in her own, "Hermione, you're scaring me. Whatever's wrong, you can tell me."

Hermione took several deep breaths, her chest heaving with the sobs she was trying to get under control. Ginny simply waited until she calmed down, holding her hands tightly.

"You have to swear not to tell anyone," Hermione finally whispered, "Swear on your magic."

Ginny's eyes went wide, this was bigger than she had thought. But she nodded, "I swear on my magic."

Hermione swallowed and her voice was almost inaudible when she whispered, "I'm pregnant."

"But how?" Ginny blurted out, and then instantly covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggle at her own words.

Hermione actually smiled, "I think you know how."

"Sorry," Ginny said quietly, "I wasn't expecting you to say _that_."

Hermione sighed and pulled the towel around her, "I wasn't expecting to be _that_." Ginny covered her mouth again, but her shoulders began shaking with silent giggles. Hermione scowled, "Oh, this is funny?"

Ginny shook her head, "No. It's certainly not. But what is funny is that you're naked in the shower, my arse is wet and this is the last place I ever thought I hear you tell me that you're pregnant."

Hermione bit her lip, realising Ginny was right. This was absurd. "You thought we'd be sitting in a quiet cafe, all grown up and married and I'd tell you then?"

Ginny nodded, "Pretty much. Now get up and dry yourself. I get you some pj's and then we can talk."

"When did you get all grown up?" Hermione asked as Ginny hauled her off the floor.

"I was born grown up," she said as she headed for the door, "I have six brothers, I had no choice."

After drying off and dressing the pyjama's Ginny handed through the door – " _I've seen enough of you naked to last a life time,"_ Ginny had said – Hermione crawled under the covers and Ginny joined her.

"Because no one will think _this_ is weird," Hermione said rolling her eyes.

"You're sick and you need your best friend by your side." Ginny said simply, "Now talk."

"I can't tell you who, Ginny, so please don't ask." Hermione said quickly.

Ginny brushed a lock of hair away from her face and smiled, "I don't need to ask."

"What?"

"It's Draco, right?"

Hermione's eyes went wide, "How did you know?" She sat up and a look of panic crossed her face, "Oh my god! Does everyone know?" She cursed herself for being so stupid. They'd clearly not hidden their feelings well enough.

Ginny touched her arm, "No. No one knows."

"Clearly _you_ do." Hermione said more harshly than she intended.

Ginny sat up and took both her hands in hers, "I know because I've seen it. They way you looked at him on the train. And you never defend him, but you did that day. And I've seen how much he's changed. He's still snarky and rude, but I can see in his face that he means none of it. And the clincher was that display in front of everyone. He was goading you just to see what you'd do. And he loved every minute of how you reacted."

Hermione flopped back to the mattress and covered her face, "Fuck!" If Ginny had noticed it, had anyone else?

Ginny lay back down beside her, "So, was it good?"

"What?" Hermione muttered from behind her hands.

"The sex. Was it good? Because I imagine with him it would be fucking-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." Hermione lowered her hands and scowled.

"Oh," Ginny sounded disappointed. "Not good then?"

Hermione grabbed her wand from the nightstand, closing the drapes around her bed and casting a silencing charm. "Ginevra Weasley, just because you insist on telling me every minute detail of what you and Harry get up to, doesn't mean that I'm going to share with you."

Ginny grinned, "Ah, so it _was_ good then."

" _Argh!_ " Hermione growled in frustration. She looked at Ginny who was staring back at her in anticipation. Hermione let out a long sigh. "Fine. It was good, _is_ good. Well, I assume it is since I have nothing to compare it to."

"Was he nice to you? I mean, he didn't _make_ you do it or anything?"

Hermione frowned, "Ah, no. The opposite actually. He said he'd wait as long I needed him to. He wasn't in any hurry."

"Wow," Ginny huffed, "I thought he'd be all forceful and pushy."

"Oh," Hermione realised what she was saying and smiled, "No. The stories aren't true."

Ginny's eyes went wide, "You mean..?"

Hermione nodded, "He was my first and I was his."

"Whoa," Ginny breathed, "This _is_ big. How did it happen?"

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her hands across her face. She sighed and shook her head and relayed the entire story to her friend. How Draco had kissed her in Diagon Alley after her fight with Harry and Ron; how they'd met in secret while her parents were at work; how when they finally had sex for the first time how nervous they'd both been, and how gentle he had been; and how she forgotten to use a charm when she'd snuck out on her birthday; and how they'd been meeting in secret all over the castle ever since.

"Two years?" Ginny looked stunned, "He's loved you for two years?"

"I didn't say _love_ , Ginny," Hermione's heart stuttered at the thought.

"A person doesn't wait two years for you without feeling more than _like_ , Hermione" Ginny said, "And he waited for you. Despite all the stories and the rumours, despite having girls throw themselves at him, he waited for _you_. Have you told him?"

"I can't." Hermione felt tears prick at her eyes, "I can't tell him Ginny."

"But I'm sure-"

"No. You know exactly what will happen. He'll deny it and his family will try to make me disappear." Hermione shook her head, "No. I can't tell him. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"He'll find out." Ginny said gently, "One day. He'll find out when she comes here. Because you know she will."

"She?" Hermione asked and Ginny nodded.

"She. Definitely a she."

"Thanks Ginny,"

Ginny smiled, "For what?"

"Not going bat-crap crazy over this. It's Malfoy after all."

Ginny shrugged, "Yeah, it is Malfoy, but he's completely in love with you. And I can't hate him, or you, for that."

* * *

"Are you feeling better?"

The quiet voice was close to her ear, and her heart stuttered. Draco. She managed to avoid him for almost a week, staying in the dorm for another day after Professor McGonagall initially insisted she take a day off. And then she'd sent an owl to him telling him she had to catch up on the work she'd missed and she'd see him as soon as she was done.

But now he'd found her. She was in the library, hidden away in the back corner, behind the stacks so no one would disturb her. She should have known better. Of course he found her. She was sure that he knew where all her favourite hiding spots were.

She smiled up at him, she couldn't help it. He really was gorgeous. "Hey," she whispered, "I am. Thank you."

He sat beside her and she glared at him, "No one will see us back here,' He assured her, "Besides, there's like two other people in here. No one but you studies this late."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I have to catch up. I told you that."

He rubbed his hand across her back, "I know. But I've missed you. And I hated not knowing how you were."

"I missed you too, and I'm sorry, but between the vomiting and the sleeping, I really wasn't thinking of much else." Draco grimaced and Hermione giggled, "Too much?"

"No. It's fine. I'm sorry you felt so poorly."

"Thank you." She quickly squeezed his hand. "I'm much better now." Madam Pomfrey had given her potions that would stop her morning sickness and not bring any suspicion. And Hermione was astounded at just how well they worked.

"Hmm," He hummed, "How much better?" His hand slipped under the table and squeezed her thigh. She sucked in a breath as his hand moved higher, sliding beneath her skirt and coming to rest at the edge of her knickers.

"Malfoy," She warned.

"Granger," He answered paying her warning no attention, and traced a single finger over the sensitive flesh between her thighs.

She stifled a groan and unconsciously shifted in her seat, spreading her legs. His finger slipped beneath the fabric of her knickers and her stomach clenched as he finally touched her. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes. She loved how he touched her like this and she was sure that no one would believe he could ever be as slow and gentle as he was with her.

She sighed, and began to move her hips slowly in time with his finger on her clit. And as he circled lower, she suddenly remembered where they were and her eyes flew open.

"Draco!" She hissed grabbing his arm, " _Stop!_ We can't do this, _for fuck's sake_!"

He pulled his hand away from her and frowned, "Okay. Fine." He pushed his chair back and stood, his voice ringing with hurt at her harshness. "It was good to see you."

Hermione grabbed his wrist as he began to walk away. "Sorry," she smiled weakly at him, "I missed two days of classes, and I'm behind and I need to catch up. And I'm sorry that-"

He cut her off with a quick kiss and she gasped. "No one saw." He smiled down at her, "And I know. I know you and I know how freaked out you are at thinking you might be behind, but I needed to see you. That's all."

She nodded, "Tomorrow night? I'll send an owl."

Draco nodded and squeezed her shoulder before walking away.

She watched his retreating form. He was without his cloak and she knew it was deliberate. He knew she loved the view from the rear and she sniggered to herself at the arrogance of him. She stared at his arse as he swaggered away from her without looking back, but she knew he was smirking.

She loved his arse, and loved it even more when it was naked. It was the most perfectly shaped arse she'd ever seen, and the only arse she ever wanted to see. She sighed. That seemed impossible now. She had six weeks until the Christmas break, and she wouldn't be returning. Ginny knew, but was under an unbreakable vow when she promised not to tell anyone.

She hated to think about it. Hated to think about not seeing him, hated to have to hide from him. The melancholic feeling that washed over her when she did think about it did nothing to help the deep thrumming ache that had taken up residence inside her. She would have to live inside a bubble of pretence until she did leave, and she hated to do it to him, but the reality of it was that she had no choice.

She had to leave.

* * *

Draco was over her, her back pressed into the mattress, his pelvis pressed firmly against hers, his grey eyes staring down at her. "What are you thinking?"

The Christmas holidays had arrived and the school was near empty, and he'd snuck her into his room. She'd been amazed at the Slytherin common room; the window that looked out under the lake; the surprisingly comfy looking couches and armchairs; and the emerald and silver and black made the room look elegant rather than gloomy. She had wanted to look around, but he smirked and told her that he had other things he wanted to show her.

And now she was in his bed, the heavy green drapes closing them in. She had insisted that the light be kept low; he thinking she was wanting to set a romantic mood, but she had noted just a few days earlier that her belly had developed a slight curve and she didn't want him to notice.

Her hands glided down his chest, over his stomach and curled around his hips, her fingers digging into his hard flesh. "I want everyone to know that you belong to me. I want to scream it from the rooftops."

"You can scream it all you like," He grinned, "Just use a silencing charm."

She slapped his arse and scowled, "Not funny."

"Hey," he said gently, "I wish it too. And one day maybe we will."

"One day isn't soon enough," Her heart began to ache. She should have lied, told him she was just thinking about his dick and why it wasn't inside her. But she couldn't lie. She was already holding onto the biggest secret imaginable and that was lie enough.

"I know," He sympathised, "Believe me, I want it more than you do. Truly I do." He leaned down and kissed her. "I've fallen in love with you and I want everyone to know it. But right now, it's an impossible dream."

Hermione's breath caught and tears filled her eyes, "What?" she whispered.

He smiled and nodded, "I love you. I have for a while now."

She pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him with a hunger she didn't know she possessed. Her arms went around his shoulders holding him to her and she rocked against him. He moaned into her mouth, his tongue pressing against hers, flicking and licking, his teeth nipping at her lips.

He shifted to his knees, his cock moving from being pressed hard against her belly to pressing against her wet entrance. He pushed inside her and she arched into him, feeling him fill her completely.

"Draco," She whispered and reached for him. He came over her again and her hands traced along his back and across the hard curve of his arse, feeling his hips shift. Her hands moved to his stomach, his chest, curling around his neck, pulling him down to her and whispering, "I love you too."

He slid across her, his hips rocking harder and his cock plunging into her. She held his mouth to hers, lips parted, capturing his grunts. She gasped and pressed her head back into the pillow when he shifted to his knees and reached between them, pressing hard on her clit.

He stilled, buried to the hilt inside her and rubbed at her. She groaned and rolled her hips, sliding along him. He gripped her hips, stopping her, and she growled in frustration.

"Fucking move Draco."

He smirked, "No. You're going to stay still and come around my cock with just my fingers." He rubbed harder and she bucked against him. He pressed a hand to her stomach and her eyes flew open. He was touching her. Touching the place where their baby was. Touching her like any expectant father would. But he didn't know. He'd done it to stop her from moving. Simple as that.

"Good?" he asked, oblivious to her moment of panic.

Hermione nodded. But she wasn't good. Not good at all. It would hurt to leave him. But she pushed the thought away. She wouldn't get lost in the hurt and pain. She only had hours until she had to leave, and for those precious hours, she would only get lost in him.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco was almost vibrating with anticipation. He'd not seen, nor heard, from her in over two weeks. He'd sent owls to her while they were on their Christmas break, but had not received anything in return. He'd been concerned, searching his memory trying to remember if she'd said anything about going away again with her parents. He had come up blank, but had supposed that last minute plans may have been made and she hadn't had the chance to reply to him.

His concern grew deeper when he had arrived at the station, waiting until the very last minute to board the train and wondering if she had arrived earlier and boarded before he had since he hadn't seen her. He had walked the length of the train twice but still hadn't seen her. And when he'd returned to his compartment, Pansy had been looking at him with the same expression that his mother had looked at him with. What was it with women? How did they know that he was up to something?

Her last words to him had been 'I love you,' and he had found himself smiling randomly every time had thought about it since. Her eyes had been filled with tears, and she had been quiet and had looked almost sad. He should have asked her, should have let her know that he'd noticed that she was upset about something, but he'd been too busy revelling in her words that he hadn't taken the time to say anything to her.

She had surprised him. She had not been what he'd expected. He knew she was smart, (she'd proven it over and over again), and he had always thought her beautiful, but she was also thoughtful and incredibly kind, and had a sharp wit and a quirky sense of humour. And for her to tell him that she loved him after all the name calling and hatred that he had thrown her way, that was the biggest surprise of all.

And the most simple thing of all was that he loved being with her. And even when they couldn't be together, simply knowing that she was near him was enough.

And now he was sitting in the Great Hall, trying to covertly look at the door, waiting on her arrival. But the Gryffindor table was almost full. Potter and Weasley were already seated, and she was rarely apart from them. Ginny Weasley, he noticed, had not arrived yet, so maybe they were together, lagging behind and catching up in whatever it was that girls talked about.

His stomach twisted into knots and he had to clamp down on the curse that almost slipped out when Ginny Weasley entered the hall with Luna Lovegood not Hermione. He watched as the pair shared a look and Ginny gave Luna a rueful smile when she squeezed Ginny's arm. They headed for their respective house tables, and Draco finally noticed how subdued the Gryffindors actually were. Ginny sat beside Potter and he whispered something to her, her face barely changed and she simply nodded.

His heart began to race, when the food suddenly appeared on the tables, assuming that all the students were present. He was hardly aware of the sudden clatter and movement around him as his fellow Slytherins began to eat, and Pansy's voice seemed miles away when she asked him to pass something to her.

He was watching the Gryffindor table, not even hiding the fact that he was doing so. She wasn't there. And there was very little he could actually do about it. He couldn't very well go over to them and ask what had happened to her.

 _Where the hell was she?_

* * *

"Draco?" Pansy appeared at the top of the stairs as he sat staring out of the Astronomy tower window. She crossed to him and sat next to him. "Did you want to tell me what's going on?"

Draco shook his head, "No."

"Too bad," Pansy said, "You've been a right royal arse for days. Now talk."

Draco met her eyes and simply stared at her. And she stared right back. This was Pansy Parkinson. She wouldn't back down until he told her, but how could he? No matter why she had disappeared without a word, he had promised Hermione that they wouldn't tell a soul.

The talk of her absence started as murmured whispers but had become loud rumours within two days. Most people were dumbstruck, hardly able to believe that she had not returned. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, had disappeared and no one – not even Potter and Weasley – seemed to have any idea where she had gone. Or why.

Endless questions had filled his head; had her parents found out about them and sent her away? Surely they wouldn't approve of him and his purist ways anymore than his parents would approve of her. Was that what had happened? Had they sent her to Beauxbatons to keep her away from him? But if they had, why hadn't she told him? They could still communicate, couldn't they? Maybe they couldn't. Maybe her parents had cut her off completely. And maybe the stunned looks on the Gryffindors faces meant she had been cut off from them too.

"There's nothing to tell Pansy," He finally said, "I'm normally a right royal arse."

"Nope," she said shaking her head, "Try again."

He let out a shaky breath and rubbed a hand across his face, "I can't tell you Pans, not this."

"It's Granger, isn't it?"

"What!?" Draco was shocked. She couldn't possibly know.

"I've seen the way you look at her," Pansy smiled at him, "And from what I can tell, she feels the same way."

"What are you talking about?" Draco said, this voice wavering.

"You disappeared last summer and none of us knew where you were. And then you were waiting on the platform, watching her, and you wouldn't allow anyone to talk about her in any way – good, bad or otherwise. And there's been a spark in you that I've not ever seen before."

"Um, well," Draco looked at her. Pansy was still smiling and he assumed that was a good thing.

"Draco, I know I'm supposed to ask you what the hell you think you're doing, but I don't care." Pansy assured him, "And I know that I've not been the kindest towards her either, but if she makes you this happy, I can't see why there's a problem."

Draco's eyes were wide, his brain trying to register what Pansy was saying. Pansy Parkinson, bigoted purist, was telling him that she was perfectly fine with him and Granger being together.

"But I'm not supposed to like her," He said, still puzzled at her reaction, "I'm supposed to hate her and be completely disgusted by her."

Pansy nodded, "I know, But clearly that isn't the case. How long has it been?"

"How long has what been?"

"How long have you been in love with her?"

Draco swallowed, Pansy knew more than her thought. He sighed, knowing that she would accept nothing but the truth from him and she wouldn't budge until he told her. "I honestly don't know what to tell you Pans."

She took his hand and squeezed, "Start at the beginning and we'll go from there."

"I've loved her for two years…actually, no. It's longer than that." He told her, "When she came down the stairs at the Yule Ball, that's when I knew. And not just because of how she looked. I was jealous of Krum, and I'd not been jealous of anyone before then."

"You should have shocked everyone and asked her to dance with you," Pansy winked at him and he huffed out a laugh.

"Believe me, I wanted to." He shook his head, "Lucius would have killed me."

"So how did this all happen?"

He stared out over the castle grounds, and a smile crept across his face, "I ran into her and she told me to fuck off. Told me to shove my pure blood up my arse." He turned to Pansy and laughed at the expression on her face. "Yeah. I was shocked too. I didn't think she was as feisty as that."

"Wow. And how did that lead to you locking lips with her?"

"I'd always wanted to and it was the perfect opportunity to follow through." He smiled at the memory and told her about their encounter in the alleyway.

"And….how far did this actually go?"

Draco's cheeks flushed pink and he looked away from her, "Her parents were out most days, so I…ah…spent time with her at hers. And we…well." He paused, his face growing hotter, "Yes. We did."

Pansy bit her lip, and nodded slowly, working through what he had just admitted. She was sure that she was the last person he wanted to talk about this with, but if he was talking about it with Blaise or Theo or anyone else, the only conversation happening would include chest pounding and inappropriate questions.

"We've been friends for a long time Draco, and I have to say, I've never seen you like this." Pansy said.

"Like what?"

"Worried about someone other than yourself." Pansy told him, "I'm sure there's a good reason she's not here, she wouldn't leave for nothing. She's the smartest witch around."

Draco raised his eyes at her, "Do you really think that?"

Pansy nodded, "She is. And as much as I hate to say that, it's true. If she wasn't a mud- sorry, if she wasn't a muggleborn, your parents would have had you paired with her years ago. And I'm sure she'll be back in no time."

Draco shrugged, "I've sent dozens of owls, Pans, and she hasn't replied to any of them. What if something serious has happened? What if her parents have sent her away because of me? What if-"

"Hey, stop that." Pansy said calmly, "If something serious had happened, Dumbledore would have told the entire school. You know that."

'I suppose, but…" He dragged his hands through his hair and let out a long exhale, "I'm trying to think if I said something, or did something that upset her, but I don't remember anything."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that I loved her."

"And how did she respond to that?"

"She told me the same."

Pansy smiled, "Well, that's something then. I'm certain that she wouldn't have said it if she hadn't meant it. Granger isn't someone who lies."

"I guess, but I hate not knowing what's going on with her." He wanted another name for the longing he felt for her. Because it was so much more than that, so much more than longing or simple need. He craved her, and he felt like a different person around her. She brought out the best in him, and he saw her as his equal, not as someone beneath him. He hated to lose a single minute with her and the fact that he didn't know where she was almost too much to bear.

He thought back to the last time they were together, when he watched her fall apart, watched as her tears fell and he knew that she was the one for him. Her words to him were real, he knew they were. Pansy was right; Hermione would never say something she didn't mean.

He had worried about telling her how he felt, had worried that she would freak out and tell him they were far too young to be in love, but she hadn't. She had whispered his name and told her the same. And now he was the one freaking out because he had no idea where she was.

Pansy touched his arm, "You could ask them." She said cautiously.

Draco shook his head, "Really Pans? I could just walk up to them and ask where she is?" He rolled his eyes, "That would go smashingly well."

"Ginny," Pansy ventured, "Ask her. Get her alone and ask her. She'll know about all this."

Draco frowned, "Hermione wouldn't have told her. We promised to tell no one."

"And yet, here _we_ are talking about it." Pansy pointed out, "Believe me, if I know, Ginny knows."

Draco thought about it, and Pansy was right; if she knew without him telling her, Ginny would most certainly know. But did anyone else? "If you two know, I'm sure the entire school must know as well."

Pansy laughed, "No, this is a best friend thing. No one else knows. Not Potter or Weasley, not Blaise or Theo."

"Best friend, huh?"

"You know I am," Pansy bumped him with her shoulder, "Ask Ginny, Draco. Even if she doesn't know where she is, she'll at least let you know if she's okay."

* * *

Weeks had passed, and Draco had become less and less tolerable – if he'd been tolerable to begin with. He had hidden from his friends, kept to himself and pushed everyone away. Pansy had remained firm in her insistence that he ask Ginny Weasley where Hermione was, but he had resisted.

He knew he was being irrational - Ginny would surely know - but he'd barely been able to concentrate on anything other than where she possibly could be, and why she had left. He was angry, and hurt, and if he asked her, he would look weak. So he had sulked, and snarled and snapped at anyone who dared to come near him; had made life hell for everyone in the Slytherin dorm room but he didn't care, and he dared anyone to cross him.

He had sent more owls, but had received nothing in return, and no one seemed any wiser as to where she was. And the Gryffindors – and the Professors - seemed as clueless as everyone else.

And he had spent hours in the library, amongst the stacks of books. He knew it had been her place of solitude, her respite from the world, and he had loved to watch her attempting to hide behind mountains of books, but now all that it did was remind him of her, and the internal peace that he had hoped it would bring didn't occur. Instead, all it brought was more heartache. But he couldn't bring himself to stay away.

He was well aware that he hadn't been making life easy for anyone around him, but it wasn't until Pansy slapped the back of his head and told him to grow up, and that if he didn't ask Ginny, she would, that he finally swallowed his pride and sent Ginny an owl. He had written on the outside of the parchment, telling her to not open it at the breakfast table, and had caught her eye as she scanned the Great Hall wondering who it was that had sent it. Her eyes had widened in surprise, but it had been fleeting and she simply tucked the small note into her robes, ignoring the obvious questions from Potter and Weasley.

And then he had waited. Anxiously. The minutes turned into hours, and when the end of the day had arrived and he still hadn't heard from her he had almost flown into another rage, cursing Pansy for making him look the fool. But a school owl was waiting for him when he stormed out of the castle after classes. He had nervously opened the parchment, and his heart leapt. She had agreed to meet with him.

And that was where he was now, waiting in a small, empty classroom that he didn't even know existed, and he wondered how Ginny Weasley knew about it. He was leaning against the wall opposite the door, nervously tapping his foot, asking himself if she would burst in to the room with the Gryffindors in tow, and make him the laughing stock of the school.

He had been waiting almost half an hour, and he shook his head at his own stupidity; she wasn't coming, and the joke was on him. He pushed off the wall, and moved to take a step, when the door opened slowly and she ducked into the room. She held her hand up, indicating to him to not speak, and he nodded when he heard two voices disappearing down the hallway.

She closed the door and waved her wand locking it. Then waved it again and cast a silencing spell. She smiled at him, "Draco."

"Ginny," Draco said with a short nod, "Thank you for meeting with me."

Ginny nodded and stood staring at him, not sure what he wanted her to say. She couldn't tell him about Hermione, there was no way. Her vow was unbreakable.

"Where is she?" Draco blurted out, trying not to sound desperate despite that fact that he truly was.

"I don't know." Ginny told him, and it was almost true – she didn't know _exactly_ where Hermione was right at that moment. "There's nothing I can tell you, Draco. I don't know anything more than anyone else."

"I really don't believe that," Draco arched an eyebrow at her, "Pansy figured out that something was going on between her and me, and I'm sure you did the same."

Ginny sighed and nodded, "Okay, you're right. I did notice the pair of you, but I don't know why she hasn't come back."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, "And you're still lying."

Ginny's cheeks grew red and she bit her lip, "Draco, I-"

"Ginny, please, I just need to know that she's okay."

Ginny's heart stuttered; she wasn't aware of just how much he cared about her friend. Hermione had been clear on her feelings, but Ginny had truly believed that Draco wanted anything more than to sleep with her and toss her aside after he had had enough. But the look of desperation on his face told her that he felt the same way Hermione did.

Ginny nodded, "She's okay."

Draco let out a breath of relief and closed his eyes, and Ginny wondered if he was holding back tears. She stepped forward and touched his arm, "Draco, are _you_ alright?"

He opened his eyes and Ginny was right; his eyes were brimming with tears. He swallowed and shook his head. "No, I'm not alright. I don't understand why she left me. Everything was great, better than great. I told her I loved her, Ginny. And when she told me the same, I was sure she meant it."

"And she did mean it," Ginny said quietly, "I know she did."

"Then why?" Draco's voice raised an octave and the tears slipped down his cheeks.

"All I can tell you is that she's okay," Ginny repeated and Draco's jaw clenched. She shook her head, "I swore on my magic, Draco. I promised her that I would protect her and all I can tell you is that she's fine. And that she loves you. And I don't know when any of us will see her again."

She hoped he didn't pick up on the tiny white lie, and it appeared that he hadn't. He was looking at her with concern.

"You swore on your magic?" He asked, knowing full well the seriousness of an unbreakable vow.

Ginny nodded, "I did. She has to stay away from everyone for a while and you know I can't tell you anything more than that."

"So that's it then?" Draco asked, his nostrils flaring, "She just leaves and refuses tell me anything, despite everything that happened between us?

"Draco," Ginny said calmly, knowing he was becoming angry, "She loves you. I know she does and if you just give her some time, she'll tell you this herself."

Draco shook his head, "No. If she truly loved me, she would have at least answered one of my owls and told me all of this herself." He exhaled a heavy breath and gave her a curt nod, "Thank you again for meeting with me. I guess there'll be no need for us to speak again."

He headed for the door and Ginny tried to stop him. "Draco-"

He held his hand up. "Don't bother Weasley. She's not who I thought she was. Not by a long shot."


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione lay in the quiet of the room. The constant buzz of excited voices and the closeness of too many people in the small room had become too much and she had thrown a fit. Her fit was mostly out of sheer exhaustion mixed with raw emotion, but it had been a fit nonetheless.

She had insisted that her mother go home as well, telling her that she would be fine and that she needed to go and spend time with her father. And after much arguing, her mother had finally left. She wanted some time alone with her new daughter; she'd not had the chance since her mother had refused to leave her side since her daughter had been born three days earlier. But now she was luxuriating in the fact that it was finally just the two of them.

And that was something she would have to become accustomed to. She would be surrounded by The Order, and the Weasley's, but she wouldn't have her parents. They would have to have their memories wiped and be sent away. The War was coming and she needed them to be safe, and it was the only option she had to ensure their safety. She'd asked Sirius if she could have a few weeks with them, to let them have some time with their granddaughter before she moved into Grimmauld Place, and he'd agreed. But only to two weeks. Two weeks was all they had; two weeks until they would be moved across the globe with no knowledge of either of them and it could be years – if ever - before she would see them again.

They of course had no idea. They couldn't know. They would be dead against it. And it was heartbreaking to think that they would miss out on spending time with their new granddaughter. But it had to be done. And even more so now that their muggle daughter had given birth to one of the purest of pureblood's baby.

She sighed, and shook her head, pushing the thought away. She wouldn't dwell on it. It had to happen, and right now she wanted to enjoy the first quiet moment she'd had alone with her baby.

Her daughter was sleeping soundly beside her, bundled tightly with a knitted pink hat that Molly had given her. She looked adorable in it, but Hermione though she would look adorable in anything. She wanted to unwrap her and just look at her, look at the tiny girl who had suddenly become the most important person in her life. She wondered just how it was that this tiny being could have completely captured her heart in so short amount of time. But she supposed it wasn't as short as she thought it was; she had after all carried her for 9 months, had felt the kicks and punches and the unexpected, and somewhat disturbing, rolling of her stomach. She had known her for all those months, but hadn't realised it at the time.

But she didn't unwrap her sleeping daughter; she simply lay beside her watching her. Her tiny face was twitching, her perfect pink lips in a pout and a tiny frown, that made her look even more like Draco, between her brows. She knew that at only three days old her daughter had nothing to dream about, but the expressions on her little face had Hermione thinking that her daughter was far more aware of what was going on around her than they truly knew.

Hermione refused to allow her to be more than an arm's length away from her at all times, terrified she would disappear or be taken. The nurses told her it was perfectly normal to feel that way, but since it was a muggle hospital, they had no clues as to the real reason she was being so overprotective. And the fact that the baby looked exactly like him made her even more nervous. She was paranoid that someone outside their circle would notice and the Malfoy's would hunt her down.

Her tiny daughter had fine blonde hair that was more like fluff than hair and Hermione had to stop herself from constantly brushing her hand across it. Her skin was pale and on the rare occasions her daughter woke, her grey eyes stared back her. They were Draco's eyes; inquisitive and serious.

And it was because she looked exactly like him, she'd had some explaining to do. Harry and Ron had eventually discovered why she'd left school - she could hardly hide the fact - but she had refused to tell them, or anyone else, any details whatsoever, including who the father was and threatened their lives if they dared to tell a soul. But the minute they saw her daughter they instantly knew. And they had all been shocked. She had thought Harry and Ron were going to leave the room immediately to find him and rip his balls off, but she'd put her foot down. Telling them if they dared touch him, they would deal with her.

"But its Malfoy," Ron had whined, "He must have taken advantage of you."

Ginny had punched her brother's arm, "Shut up, you moron."

"Hey! What the hell Ginny?" Ron took a step back, rubbing his arm.

" _He must have taken advantage of her?_ " Ginny looked incredulous. "So there's no way he could possibly think her gorgeous and smart, or be completely in love with her? The only way he'd be with her was if he _took advantage_ of her?"

"But it makes no sense, why would you do... _that_...with _him_?" Ron asked bluntly, completely ignoring Ginny's withering glare.

"Seriously Ronald? It's not really any of you business why I did _that_ with him," Hermione said calmly. Ginny was incensed enough for both of them so there was no need for her to give Ron and Harry a piece of her mind. "Besides, _you_ certainly weren't interested, were you? I mean, Lavender and _those_ rumours were way more important than thinking of me in _that_ way."

Ginny sniggered as Ron's face went bright red and he choked out an incoherent sound. Her idiot brother had been too busy chasing after Lavender to even realise Hermione had feelings for him. Instead he'd assumed that the rumours about Lavender being the school tramp were true, when in fact she was far from it.

"You could have told us,' Harry said quietly, and Ginny turned on him.

"Why would she tell you? Look at how you've both reacted." Ginny snapped, "Neither of you ever listen to her and you talk to her like she's nothing. She's not just 'one of the guys'. She's actually a girl. But you two idiots always forget that. You say she's your friend, but you were both too stupid to even notice that anything had changed with her. And now you're angry at her because someone actually paid attention to her, someone she chose to be with. Someone who chose to be with her."

Harry, looking suitably chastened, sat on the bed beside Hermione. He took her hand, "Sorry." He said, "Ginny's right, we are idiots."

"Yes, she is right, you _are_ idiots,' Hermione agreed.

"You loved him?" Harry asked.

She shook her head and smiled, "No, not loved him, I _do_ love him Harry. You never saw him the way I did. He's much different than you think. And you know why I had to keep it secret."

"Yeah," he said, "We probably would have killed him, and then had you committed."

"Exactly," She squeezed his hand, "Harry, I didn't want to lie to you and now I've had to lie to him. And worse, I've had to hide from him. And I hate it all."

"You know that we love you no matter what," Harry smiled, "And we'll love her as much. Probably more. It doesn't matter who her father is." Hermione shot him a sceptical look, "I mean it. It doesn't matter. And I promise we'll keep her safe."

She looked between him and Ron, "Don't go near him. He can't know. Not yet. And if either of you even thinks its okay to hurt him, I will hurt you right back."

They both agreed, and they knew better than to mess with her. She hadn't missed a day of school. She'd had to hide the fact, of course, but a surprise visit had allowed her to continue.

 ******* DMHG *******

 _"_ _Professor? What are doing here?"_

 _Hermione was stunned to find Professor Dumbledore on her doorstep. He was smiling down at her, not at all perturbed by her bluntness._

 _It had been two weeks since the train had taken the students back to Hogwarts, the train that she had not been on. She'd not told anyone – Ginny being the exception – and she simply stayed home. Of course, she had assumed that someone would come looking for her, Professor McGonagall maybe, since she was the head of her house, but she had certainly not expected it to be Professor Dumbledore._

 _"_ _I am here, Miss Granger, to ascertain as to why Hogwarts' finest student had not returned from her Christmas holidays without a word." He peered over his glasses at her, and she felt her cheeks heat up._

 _"_ _Um," she mumbled, "Please come inside."_

 _The professor smiled at her and nodded, accepting her invitation and stepping through the door. She ushered him into the living room, offering him tea. He thanked her politely and proceeded to conjure up a tray on the coffee table that contained tea and scones and biscuits._

 _"_ _If you leave this room, Miss Granger, I am concerned you won't return." His voice was soft but he was looking at her with serious eyes, a look that she was all too familiar with._

 _She sat opposite him and cleared her throat, "Professor, I, um." She had no idea what to tell him. The truth was the obvious thing; he would see straight through any lies, as he was uncannily able to do, and he along with everyone else would find out soon enough, but she was embarrassed as to what he would think of her._

 _She had been beyond embarrassed when she'd arrived home and announced to her parents that she would not be returning to Hogwarts. They had been surprisingly calm when she had told them reason why, her father quietly poured himself a glass of whiskey and had sat silently while he absorbed her news. Then he had demanded to know who the father was, and became enraged when she refused to tell him. But she had stood up and glared at him, raising her voice in way she had never ever done with either of her parents, telling him that if he wanted to keep his daughter and his grandchild safe, if he wanted to keep them alive, he'd never ask again._

 _They would never understand the seriousness of the situation, and it was far too difficult to explain. They didn't understand the magical world and she didn't think they ever would._

 _Her mother had taken her hand and smiled, telling her to never mind her father and that whatever she decided to do they would support her. Although they had been taken aback when she told them that she was already just over three months pregnant._

 _"_ _Miss Granger, I am sure whatever it is that has made you think that you cannot return to Hogwarts is not as bad as you believe it to be. I'm sure that we can work out a solution to and assist you in whatever way you need us to."_

 _Hermione took a breath and the words just tumbled out, "I'm pregnant, Professor."_

 _His face remained blank, not surprised, not angry, not anything. He picked up his tea and sipped it, and slowly returned the tea cup to its waiting saucer on the tray in front of him. "Well, then. I think congratulations are in order."_

 _"_ _Um, thank you?" Hermione was shocked. She though he would be disappointed in her, would tut at her, or even lecture her on how irresponsible she had been. But he had done none of that, instead here he was congratulating her. She wondered if Madam Pomfrey had told him, but his blank stare told her that the school's nurse had indeed not informed him, possibly assuming that since Hermione had not returned, that there was no reason to explain her absence._

 _"_ _Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"_

 _Hermione's cheeks flushed and she nodded, "Yes, professor. I don't do things like...um...this."_

 _Dumbledore's lips twitched, "I have spent more time being concerned with you, Miss Granger, and your two companions, and the shenanigans you three always seem to be up to than any other students since young Mr Potters' father was a boy."_

 _Hermione bit her lip, but a laugh had already escaped. "Sorry Professor."_

 _"_ _I assume that no one knows? Mr Potter? Mr Weasley?"_

 _Hermione shook her head. "No, they don't. Ginny does, and my parents, but no one else. I think it's for the best." Her hand went to her rounded belly, "Safer for both of us."_

 _The Professor nodded, a small frown crossing his face, gone as quick as it came, "I trust your judgement, Miss Granger. And I will uphold you request for privacy. We'll organise your classes for you and you'll not be left behind."_

 _"_ _I can't come back Professor," Hermione frowned in confusion, "You know that I can't."_

 _"_ _Your classes will be here, and with The Order. You will learn by correspondence, and there are more than enough willing Order member to train you. And I will ensure that your professors and fellow students will be none the wiser."_

 _"_ _But Sir, I'm not sure that's fair to anyone." Hermione countered, "I left school without a word, and shouldn't be rewarded."_

 _Dumbledore peered over his glasses at her, "Miss Granger, please lock the door for me."_

 _Hermione frowned at his request, but moved to stand._

 _"_ _Ah, no.' He held up his hand, "Stay in your seat and lock the door."_

 _"_ _I don't have my wand Professor. I can't-" she stopped. She could lock the door. She'd done it before, only that time she'd unlocked it to allow Ginny into the bathroom. She flicked her wrist and muttered the charm, and the door clicked._

 _"_ _And that, Miss Granger, is why I expect you to continue." He smiled at her, "You are of a rare few who area able to perform wandless magic and as such you shall not be disadvantaged, not matter the circumstances."_

 _"_ _Thank you sir," Hermione's heart leapt, she wouldn't have to give up school._

 _Dumbledore stood, "Expect an owl from me in the coming days."_

 _Hermione nodded, "Thank you professor." Her hand went to her belly again, "I appreciate your trust and thank you for understanding my need for privacy. I've not told-" She stopped. Not sure what she should tell him regarding Draco._

 _"_ _Miss Granger, we live in a world surrounded by magic, yet most of us fail to see the most magical of thing of all," He took her hand and squeezed it tightly, "We fail to see love. We walk right past it without a second thought; we fail to see it in those we are most friendly with, but mostly we fail to see it in those we thought we loathed." He winked at her._

 _Hermione's heart stuttered, No, he couldn't possibly know._

 _"_ _We will expect to see a fine young witch or wizard at Hogwarts in the future, Miss Granger. With the talent of its parents, I have high hopes for your child."_

 _Holy shit, how did he know?_

 _He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Tell him only when the time is right."_

 _And just like that, he was gone._

 ******* DMHG *******

"Hey baby girl," Hermione brushed the tip of her finger across her daughter's cheek, "You look just like your daddy. And I know that he would be so in love with you. I'm sorry he's not here but I promise that one day you will know him. And you're going to hear all sorts of stories about him, but they're not true. He's sweet and kind and smart. And he's loyal and he's determined, and I hope that you are all those things and more.

"Everyone loves you so much you already. And I promise you that we will all protect you, and I promise that we will win the war and you can grow up safe."

Her daughter yawned, as if this was the most boring thing she'd heard and Hermione giggled. "Just like your father."

She was still astounded that the squirming bump that had been her belly was now laying beside her. Her labour had been short – just three hours – and her daughter's birth hadn't been nearly as intense as she had built it up in her own mind to be. She wouldn't deny that it was the most excruciating pain she'd ever felt, but after some of the horror stories she'd heard and read about, she had thought she would be giving birth for days, not just hours.

The second her doctor had placed her new born daughter on her chest she saw Draco. She knew it was absurd to think that the squirming pink mess that was her daughter was the exact image of him, but it was true. Everything about her screamed Draco, and her tears of elation had been mixed with tears of sadness that he hadn't been there to witness it.

And while she had been glad that her mother was with her, she just wanted him, wanted him to hold her hand, wanted him to tell her she had been brilliant in bringing their daughter into the world, wanted him to meet the tiny baby they had made together. And when she should have been celebrating one of the most precious moments in her life, she was hating herself just a little bit. And she tried not to, tried to be happy – and she was – but now that their daughter was here, the niggling feeling that he should know about her was eating at her conscience.

There was a quiet knock, followed almost comically by Ginny's head appearing around the door, "Can I come in?"

Hermione smiled at her the hesitant look on her friends' face and nodded, and Ginny crossed the room to her. She climbed up on the bed and lay on her side facing her, the tiny girl sleeping soundly between them.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I know you said you wanted space, but I figured you could use someone to be angry at."

"I didn't mean to explode like I did,' Hermione said, "I'm tired and cranky, and I just haven't had any time with her own my own."

"Did you want me to go?"

"No," Hermione said reaching over and squeezing Ginny's hand, "Please stay. Mum's been great, but she's fussing too much. A conversation that doesn't involve feeding or nappies or sleeping would be great."

"I don't think sleeping is a problem," Ginny noted "Is she ever awake?"

"No." Hermione smiled, "And I hope she stays like this."

"I doubt it." Ginny said, "If she's anything like you she'll be reading books in about a month."

Hermione looked at her daughter, "I don't think she's anything like me at all."

"It's scary how much she looks like him." Ginny said and then added cautiously, "He'd be pretty pleased."

Hermione nodded. She had though as much herself. He would love that she looked like him, that she was a Malfoy, and she knew that he would be absolutely smitten with her, just as she was. She felt a lump form in her throat and Ginny must have seen the anguish on her face because she reached across and squeezed her arm.

"Sorry," She said, "I shouldn't have gone there."

"No, it's okay," Hermione sniffed, "It's not like I haven't thought it myself. Maybe I should have told him. It's not fair to either of them that I haven't."

"No, you did the right thing," Ginny assured her, "It's too dangerous for her. And you know that he'd want her safe. And that he'd want you safe too."

 _He'd want her to be safe._ Hermione knew the words were true, it was exactly what he would want for his daughter, and the tears Hermione had been holding onto for days finally fell.

She had been surrounded by people since her daughter's arrival but the one person – the only person - she wanted wasn't there. Her heart ached for him, wanting him so much to be a part of all of it and every time she looked at her daughter, she had to fight back tears for fear that everyone around her would all think she was having some kind of post-natal breakdown.

But it wasn't like that at all; she just simply missed him. It had taken everything she had to not reply to the owls he sent in the weeks after she'd not returned to school; had taken every inch of willpower she had to not cave in and tell him and beg him to not hate her. And as the months passed she finally came to terms with the fact that she would have his baby and he would know nothing about it. But now, when she looked at the little girl that was his exact replica, she hated herself all over again.

Ginny rubbed her hand up and down Hermione's arm. She didn't say a word, she just let her cry. Her heart was breaking at her friend's distress, and she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix it. She'd not told her about her conversation with Draco, she knew that she would be devastated at his reaction; that he refused wait for her, to give her some time. And she knew there was no way she would break her heart by telling her.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered through her tears. "I hate that he's not here, Gin. I hate all of it. And the shit that he must be going through...he should be here being happy not dealing with all of that crap. He would love her so much." She looked up at Ginny her vision blurred by her tears, "Sorry."

Ginny touched her cheek, "No, don't you ever be sorry for this. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now, but you don't have to be sorry for it."

"It makes no sense, Gin."

"What's that?"

"Me and him." She managed a small smile, "I always thought it would be your brother. Not him, and I still don't understand what he ever saw in me."

"Hey now," Ginny chided her gently, "He saw everything that my dolt-headed brother did not. You're smart and kind and caring, and you're incredibly beautiful. He would have been crazy not to fall in love with you. And let's be honest, you'd have been crazy not to fall for him, I mean, _Merlin!_ He's hot."

"Don't let Harry hear you say that," Hermione told her with a small laugh, "Because you're right, he is amazingly hot."

The baby let out a tiny squeak, and they both sniggered. Hermione kissed her daughter's cheek, "Sorry baby girl, but it's true. Your daddy is just like you; gorgeous"

"You really did fall in love with him, didn't you?"

Hermione nodded, "I did. And if I don't ever get to see him again, I at least have his perfect little princess with me forever."

"Does this perfect princess have a name yet?"

Hermione nodded. She had chosen her daughter's name long before she was born. She hadn't even considered boys names, she knew she was carrying a girl from the moment Ginny had jokingly said it. And she also knew the long Malfoy tradition of naming their children, and even though Draco didn't have the first clue about it she would honour the tradition and name her daughter as such.

"Ara." Hermione said staring at her daughter, "Ara Jo Granger."

"After the constellation?" Ginny asked and Hermione nodded, "It's perfect. Ara Jo Granger, I just want you to know there are so many people that love you so much already, but just remember that I'm your favourite Aunt Ginny."

The tiny girl blinked up at her and yawned, her eyes drooping and closing again making Hermione laugh. "Don't take offence, apparently everything bores her."

Ginny just smiled, "Oh sweet baby girl, enjoy the peace and quiet now, because nothing in your life will ever be boring."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Thank you all for the feedback on this, as always, it's much appreciated. xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Because you all asked so nicely...here's the next one :)**

* * *

 **...ELEVEN YEARS LATER...**

* * *

"Granger?"

Hermione froze.

 _No. Not now. Not here._

The voice sounded shocked, but it was unmistakable. Almost twelve years had passed since she'd last heard it, but a thousand years could pass, all of her senses could be lost, and she would still know it.

The image of the last time they were together flashed through her mind. It was midnight in the Slytherin dorm, the night before she'd left to go home, never to return. The school had all but emptied out. The Christmas holidays had started and there were but a handful of students left in the school. She'd told her parents that she had some last minute studying she needed to get done and would be home a day later than expected.

They were in his bed, and he was above her, smiling down, his hair falling into his eyes, a sheen of sweat coving his naked body. He'd told her that he loved her, that he had loved her for longer than she knew, and she had told him the same. They'd fucked several times, hard and fast, but that last time, he taken his time and made love to her.

She knew she was pregnant, and she had tormented herself over telling him. But she was terrified of what he would say, what he would expect her to do. And her heart had been aching, knowing that it would be the last time with him. She'd fought back tears, had clung to him in a way that she had hoped he wouldn't recognise as something other than her wanting more of him.

She had wanted him to be happy about their child, happy about her decision to keep it. But her fear of him rejecting her, rejecting their child, of him denying that it was his and telling the world that she had lied had won out and she chose not to tell him. Chose to disappear and hide her from him for as long as she could.

She shook her head slightly, forcing the image away. She gripped Ara's shoulder, and her daughter looked up at her.

Ara's voice was alarmed, "Are you alright?"

Hermione smiled and told her, "I'm fine, sweetheart," and then turned to face Draco.

And she got her own shock. He was holding a baby; a chubby, heart achingly adorable tinier version of himself. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, her daughter had missed this. Had missed having her father to hold her. But she couldn't focus on that right now.

And she certainly couldn't focus on the way his shirt was pulled tightly across his chest, the perfect blue-grey that matched his eyes. His jaw and chin were covered in stubble, and it took everything she had to not reach out and run her palm across his roughened skin. She had avoided any and all mention of him over the years, to the point where Ginny had actually insisted she accompany her for a girl's week away when the Daily Prophet had sprouted the news of his wedding so she wouldn't have to deal with the constant bombardment of Malfoy wedding photos.

"Hello Draco," Hermione's calm demeanour hid the churning fear inside her, "And who's this?"

Ara reached out and tickled the baby's foot, "He's so cute!" she said, and the tiny boy smiled and kicked his legs, gurgling in a way that made Hermione's ovaries ache.

Hermione took her daughters hand, "Sorry, she loves babies," Hermione said and then looked down at her daughter, "Maybe you should ask if it's okay to do that. You don't want to scare him."

Ara smiled at Draco, "Sorry, what's his name?"

Draco was staring at Ara, her curly blonde hair and blue-grey eyes did nothing to hide her lineage. He'd have to be an idiot to not realise whose child she was, "Oh, um, his name is Scorpius. What's your name?"

"Ara," she told him, "I'm eleven and I just got my Hogwarts letter! We're here buying all the stuff I need."

Draco looked at Hermione, who held his gaze without flinching, her face remaining impassive, and her daughter nodded when he asked, "Ara? Like the constellation?"

Draco's voice was cautious, and Hermione's stomach clenched. He stared back at her, his eyes flicking between Hermione and her daughter. This was not how she'd imagined this moment playing out, and this was the absolute last place she thought it would happen. Out in public, where everyone could see. She said a silent prayer that he not ask questions, that he not make a scene.

"Yes," Ara said excitedly, "Not many people know that. How did _you_ know that?"

"Well, Scorpius is a constellation also, and so is Draco." He told her, "And what a coincidence, the Ara constellation is right near the Scorpius constellation. Did you say that you're eleven?"

Ara nodded, "Yep. And I'm going to Hogwarts. Just like my mum did." She looked up at Hermione and Draco didn't miss the look of complete adoration in the young girl's eyes.

 _My mum._ Clearly she was referring to Hermione, but Draco had to ask, "She's yours?"

"She is," Hermione told him and Draco smiled, and it was a smile that Hermione knew all too well; a smile that hid the seriousness behind it, a smile that let her know that he would come looking for her out of the public eye. A smile that said he knew. "And we're holding you up. It was good to see you again, Draco. And congratulations." She glanced at Scorpius and took her daughters hand and smiled down at her, "Come on baby, let's go."

Just as Draco called for her to wait, she heard another voice call _Draco darling_ , and it took every fibre of her being to not turn around to see who he had ended up with. And as her daughter asked, _who was that mum?_ She heard the voice behind her ask who Draco had been talking with.

"Just an old school friend," she told Ara as they entered Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione quickly picked out the books Ara would need for school, and thanked Merlin that this was their last stop. She knew he'd come looking for her, knew that an owl would be on her windowsill (most likely waiting for her the second they arrived home), and she knew that he would want to know what the hell she'd thought she was doing by hiding his daughter from him.

"Can we stay mum?" Ara asked and Hermione's stomach clenched. They so rarely visited the Alley for this exact reason, so when they did, Ara always wanted to stay longer. But she needed to get away; she couldn't risk running into him again.

"Not today baby," she squeezed her daughter's hand. "But I promise next time, we can stay all day if you want."

"Seriously?"

Hermione nodded, "Seriously. Now let's get all this stuff home. "

* * *

Harry and Ginny entered the kitchen, laughing, but stopped short when they saw Hermione sitting at the large counter in the centre of the room. She had her hands wrapped around a coffee mug, her face blank and she was staring into space. Ginny touched Harry's arm, they both knew this look. Something had gone wrong.

"Hermione?" Ginny said cautiously, not wanting to startle her, "Is everything okay?"

Hermione blinked and shook her head, "Hey," she said looking dazed.

Harry sat beside her, his hand rubbing over her back, "Hey," He said quietly, "What's happened?"

"Draco," she said, coughed to clear her throat and spoke again, "Draco. We ran into him, rather he ran into us." Hermione put her head in her hands. "He knows."

Ginny sat the other side of her and squeezed her shoulder, "And..."

Hermione's took a steadying breath and looked up, "And nothing. He didn't react, he didn't say anything. He just stood there with his new baby and said nothing."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, glancing at Ginny, "So this means...?

Hermione shrugged. "I have no fucking idea." She closed her eyes and let out a breath, " _Shit._ What am I going to do?"

"Are we sure he knows?" Ginny asked, "If he said nothing, maybe he didn't realise."

Hermione shot her withering glare, "Really Gin? You seriously don't think he realised? You all knew the minute she was born."

Ginny held her palms up, conceding the point, "Maybe he'll do nothing. He'll just pretend he didn't see her, or you, and that'll be the end of it."

Harry gave his wife a wry smile and shook his head, "While I like your optimism Gin, this is Malfoy we're talking about. He won't let this slide."

Hermione leaned her elbows on the table and thumped her head against her palms. Harry was right. He most definitely wouldn't let this slide. She'd been sitting here for an hour, Ara was in the garden picking flowers and finding bugs for her potions, and she'd been waiting. Waiting for the inevitable knock on the door and the argument that was sure to ensue.

"Okay, So what do we do?" Ginny asked and Hermione smiled.

She'd expected Harry and Ginny to suggest she move out when James arrived, and then Albus, but it hadn't happened. She and Ara had occupied the top floor of Grimmauld Place since Ara was tiny and in truth, she didn't want to leave. It was where Ara had taken her first steps, had broken her arm, had grown up. It was their home and they were her family.

And here was Ginny asking what _they_ were going to do.

"I don't know Gin," Hermione sighed, "I can't send an owl to him, his wife might see it and I won't be responsible for _that_."

"Wait," Harry said, "Does Ara know?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. Well, I don't think so. She hasn't mentioned him, so..." She shrugged.

"And you? Harry asked, "How did you feel when you saw him?"

She closed her eyes again, running her hands through her hair. _How had she felt?_ She had felt a flurry of butterflies in her stomach; she had felt a warmth running through her, pooling in that one spot that had had no attention in so very long. She had wanted to touch him, the attraction to him from her youth had not disintegrated in the slightest even though she had hoped it would.

The mere sight of him had her flashing back to their time together, the few months that she tried not to dwell on. But it was all she had done in the hours since she'd seen him. The smell of his cologne; his sweat-slicked skin; her legs wrapped around him; the length of him buried inside her, was all she could think about.

And she hated herself. It was the first time since the first few days after her daughter's birth she had done so. She hated that she hadn't told him. Hated that he'd not had the chance to be a father to his daughter, hated that they had not had the chance to just be with him.

"I don't know." She finally replied. "You know how I felt about him back then, and I thought it would have changed over time, but seeing him today, seeing him with his son...fuck!"

"Mum, you're not allowed to swear."

The three of them whipped around to see Ara grinning at them, her hands, and small basket, full of lord knows what. Hermione let out a small groan, hoping that Ara had only heard the curse she was admonishing her for.

"Hey chicken," Harry said, "Whatcha got?"

Ara plopped her cache onto the counter and rolled her eyes, "Uncle Harry, I'm eleven. You shouldn't call me chicken anymore."

Harry tickled her ribs, "Sorry chicken, but you know that's your real name."

She huffed out a breath and then shot him a cheeky grin, "Okay, Uncle Scarhead."

Ginny laughed and Hermione balked at her daughters' reference to the same insult that her father used to use for Harry while they were at school and the fact that she had chosen to use it on the very day she had unknowingly met him. Harry looked at Hermione and tried not to laugh. He brushed his fingers across his forehead and the now faded scar, and frowned.

"Scarhead, huh?" Harry tapped his chin in a thoughtful gesture, "I like it."

Ara laughed, and then looked at Hermione, "Were you talking about the man we met today?"

Hermione nodded, "We were."

"He's my father, isn't he?" Ara asked.

With the exception of hiding Draco's identity from her, Hermione made it a rule not to lie to her daughter. She reached across the counter and took her hand, "He is," Hermione told her, "Was it that obvious?"

Ara smiled, "Yeah, I look like him. Will I get to meet him properly?"

"I honestly don't know. It will be up to him, okay?"

Ara nodded, "Does that mean his baby is my brother?"

"Um," Hermione floundered, looking at Harry and Ginny for help.

"Well," Harry said pulling her to the seat beside him, "In a way it does. You and the baby have the same father, but different mothers. So that makes him your half-brother. Does that make sense?" Ara nodded and Harry continued, "But since Draco only just learned about you, we still have to keep it a secret, okay?"

"Because of his family?"

"That's right," Ginny told her, "Even though we won the war, some families still don't like half-bloods or muggles."

"Okay," Ara said and held up her basket, "Did you see what I found?"

Hermione shook her head. Her daughter was happy with their answers and just like that, the conversation was over.

* * *

Draco sat in his office, completely ignoring the pile of papers in front of him. All of it important and in need of his attention, but his attention was elsewhere.

Almost twelve years had gone by and in all that time he'd seen her twice. Twice. The first time was at the Manor when his deranged aunt had tortured her and he had been too pathetic to stop it. And the last time was right before the fall of the Dark Lord, right before he had been called to cross the ruins of the castle and join the death eaters, and it had hardly been the time to stop and ask her where the hell she had been.

He had walked right past her, brushing his hand against hers, hearing the catch of her breath. He had wanted to stop, had wanted to ignore the call for him to cross the courtyard, had wanted to take her hand and stand beside her. But his mother would have been killed right there and then, and for that he would not have been able to forgive himself.

It had been three days since he had seen her and in those three days she was all he could focus on. The girl he once knew and loved had long gone, and a stunning woman had taken her place. She had taken his breath away, and not just because he'd been surprised to see her. Her wild hair had finally been tamed, and she'd pulled it back into a simple ponytail; the simplicity of it made her look more beautiful than he'd remembered. And she was fine, with just a hint of those curves he had so admired, and she still held herself with a confidence that would make most men cower in fear.

And then he had noticed the child. The eleven year old and he had no doubt who her father was. It had been like looking into a mirror. The blonde-haired, grey-eyed girl was a Malfoy, that was for sure, and Granger had dared to hide her from him.

And that was what he had been trying to wrap his head around. She had dared to hide his child from him. _Dared_. He wouldn't stand for it. He was a Malfoy, and the child was his, and no one dared to cross a Malfoy. And as much as he wanted to show up at her house and rant and rave about just who she thought she was, he held back. He decided to make her sweat. To make her wonder just when he'd turn up. To make her think he would show up with his lawyer and take the child from her.

Astoria and his mother had noticed the change. He was being sullen - more so than usual - and overprotective of his son, not allowing anyone near him. It was stupid, he knew, but the sudden need to watch over his son night and day was Grangers fault.

And _fuck_! He'd been near constantly hard since he'd seen her. He'd already tossed off twice that morning in the private bathroom attached to his office, not to mention several times each of the previous nights since he'd seen her while his wife slept. And each time the vision behind his closed eyes was not of his wife, but her.

He closed his eyes and there she was. Her clothes were that of muggles; tight fitting jeans that hugged her perfectly and in all the right places (when she'd turned around to leave, his eyes had dropped to her arse, and he'd had to think of very cold things to stop the heat in his belly from causing a very embarrassing problem). And the loose fitting top she was wearing hadn't helped; the open vee-neck allowed him a glimpse of what was hidden beneath and covered in lace.

His first thought - after the shock of seeing her - was what she would look like underneath those clothes. Would she be like he remembered? Or would she be more? More curves, more freckled skin, more of those legs that had seemed to go on forever? And more of that pussy that he longed to taste. A taste that was seared into his memory, a taste that he couldn't bear to take from his wife for fear of losing that of the only woman he ever truly loved.

 _Fuck_! He cursed quietly. Astoria. His wife. The mother of his son. He loved her, but not in the way he loved Granger. He loved her only because he had to. She was right for him, right for his family. But the love was shallow, barely skin deep. She wasn't Granger, not by a long shot and he'd virtually hidden from his wife since seeing her. He had gone to bed long after she'd been asleep and risen again before she woke, for fear of her wanting him, for fear of him crying out Granger's name.

Draco looked down at himself, his cock bulging in his pants. He was hard. Again.

He groaned, his hand slipping to his lap and squeezing himself through the fabric of his trousers. _Fuck_! The mere thought of her was all it took to get him rock hard. This was not good. He called out to his assistant that he was not to be disturbed by anyone, and waved his wand at the door locking it.

Knowing this...problem...wouldn't go away without help, he tugged at his belt, and the sound of his zipper and his sigh as he took himself in hand were loud in his ears, his body vibrating with anticipation of what he was going to do.

He closed his eyes and wondered. Would she ever come in here? Would she lock that door herself? Would she drop to her knees? Would she slip under his desk and suck him off while he met with clients who were unaware?

"Fuck," he swore quietly as his hand moved over himself.

He started out slow, imagining her mouth and tongue on him, imagining the slow, seductive way she moved without even knowing it. He remembered the first time she did this for him, how tentative, how shy she was. How nervous _he_ was. But good holy fuck, she'd been brilliant.

His rhythm grew faster at the memory, tugging himself with quick, firm strokes. He shifted his position, widening his legs and reaching down to cup his balls. His breath was short and sharp, and he couldn't hold back the quiet grunts that were forcing their way from his chest.

It felt good to do this, felt good to allow himself to think about her. He'd pushed her from his thoughts for so long, tried not to wonder where she was, what she was doing, why she had disappeared. And now that he knew why, his thoughts were filled with her. Was she married? Was another man raising his child?

That last thought had him squeezing himself harder. _Married. Another man._ Fuck that bullshit!

He pressed his head back into the padded back of his chair, the brushing sound of his hand moving faster and faster seemed to be amplified in the quiet room. His fantasy of her on her knees grew; he saw himself gripping her hair and fucking into her mouth, of her moaning around him, of her begging him for more.

A loud knock at the door startled him into consciousness, and the _Draco, darling?_ that followed in his wife's voice had him coming instantly.

"Fuck." He swore and closed his eyes. The vision of Hermione on her knees, smirking smugly back up at him while his wife waited outside made his cock twitch and had him coming again.

"Draco?" Astoria called.

"One minute." He ground out through gritted teeth, swiftly grabbing his wand and casting a _Scurgify_ spell to clean himself up. That was followed by a concealment charm, since he was still hard. _Damned Granger!_

He stood and winced, his pants uncomfortably tight and he was sure that his balls would be blue without the urgent relief they were seeking. He took a breath and exhaled slowly, calming himself before crossing the room and opening the door.

His son squealed when he spotted him and Draco smiled at him, instantly reaching out to pluck the 8 month old from the arms of his nanny. The delight in seeing his son was always overshadowed by the anger he felt towards his wife and her reluctance to do anything with their son more than to tell everyone that he was theirs. She rarely held him, never bathed him or put him to bed, and hated the mess he made when he ate – if she could be bothered to be with him at meal times.

And Draco hated her for it. She wasn't a mother, she was barely a wife. She had only wanted to be known as _Astoria Malfoy_ and wanted nothing more. He'd seen more mothering in just a few minutes of his meeting with Granger than Astoria had shown in eight months. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to make a scene, but he was struggling to keep the anger that was bubbling just beneath the surface down.

"Why was your door locked?" Astoria's voice was accusatory and if it wasn't for this week's round of whatever chemicals she had shoved into her face, he was sure she would be frowning.

"I had a meeting over the Floo that was not to be disturbed." Draco snapped. His temper was short and while he didn't intend to take his frustrations out on her, her tone was enough to push him over the top. "You've been out spending more money I assume."

Astoria actually managed to look surprised, but recovered almost instantly, "I only want the best for our son."

Draco snorted a laugh, "Yeah, right. Our son. Is there any particular reason you're here? Or is it to leave him here with me, so you can spend the afternoon with the girls, pretending you're a mother?"

Astoria opened her mouth to respond, but he held up his hand, "Just go Astoria. Do what you do best." He turned to Scorpius' nanny, "Amelie, I'll take care of him, one of his parents should. You can have the afternoon off."

He turned on his heel and sauntered into his office, glaring back at his wife before slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Two days had gone by since he blew up in his office at Astoria, and he'd barely seen her since. He was sure she'd gone to her parents – of course leaving Scorpius at home with the nanny – and he could have cared less. She was spoiled and entitled (more so than he was) and he had always turned a blind eye to it. It had been easier to give in to her, than to deal with her tantrums. But now he didn't care if she left permanently, didn't care if she took half his family's fortune. In fact he would give it to her gladly to have her gone, but he would fight tooth and nail for his son.

And now he was standing in front of the well hidden home of Harry Potter. It had taken some work to track her down. Her parents house now belonged to her, but she clearly had not lived there for years if the surprised faces of its new residents were anything to go by when he'd showed up demanding to see Hermione Granger. And when he discovered she was living with Harry in his mother's ancestors' home he had kicked himself. He should have known that she would have been holed up with him and Ginny.

"Potter. Is she here?" Draco asked coolly when Harry opened the door.

Hermione sucked in a breath and looked at Ginny, her eyes wide. Draco had found her. She had expected an owl, or a big burly lawyer on the doorstep, she hadn't expected him to simply show up.

Ginny was staring back at her, her own eyes equally as wide, "How did he find you?"

Hermione shrugged, "Who knows?" It was possible that she knew she lived at Grimmauld Place, but there had been no real reason for him to know, or any previous reason for him to come here.

"Malfoy," She heard the strain in Harry's voice. He'd been a big part of Ara's life. He had basically taken on the role of her father and was as protective of her as Hermione was, "Wait here, I'll check if she wants to see you."

"Uncle Harry!? Did you get-oh, I'm sorry," Ara stopped short when she saw Draco. "Hello. Did you bring your baby?"

Draco smiled at her, he couldn't help but not. Just a few minutes in this child's presence and he was smitten. There was no question she was his. She looked exactly like him. And when she said she was eleven, it matched perfectly with the time that Hermione had disappeared from school. The only question was why Hermione had not told him.

"Hermione?" Harry entered the living room, "Did you want to see him?"

She let out the breath she was holding and stood, "Might as well get this over with."

Harry followed her back down the long hallway, and Hermione, while slightly annoyed that Harry had left her with Draco, smiled at her daughter conversing easily with her father. And seeing them together, she was truly surprised that so few people recognised who her father was, the resemblance was remarkable.

"Draco, hello."

"I think we need to talk," Draco said looking up to meet her gaze.

"You're right, we do," she nodded and took her daughters hand, "Come upstairs, we can talk there."

"Hermione?" Harry was looking at Ara, "Are you sure...?"

"It's okay Harry," she smiled, "We'll be fine."

Hermione headed up the stairs, and Draco moved to follow, but Harry stopped him, "Draco, don't..."

"Don't what, Potter,"

"Don't think you know why," Harry said and walked away.

Draco watched as Harry walked down the long hallway and disappeared, frowning. _What the hell did that mean?_

* * *

Hermione stood behind Ara, her hands resting gently on her shoulders, "Draco this is Ara; Ara this is Draco Malfoy."

"It's lovely to meet you Draco," Ara said politely.

"Likewise," Draco smiled at her, "Do you know who I am?"

Ara nodded and stated simply, "You're my father."

"I believe I am." He looked at Hermione who gave him a small smile and nodded, "Did you get everything you needed for school?"

Ara nodded excitedly, "Oh, yes. We got so much stuff. And my most favourite is my cauldron, I love making potions."

"Really?" Draco looked at her surprised, he figured Hermione would have dissuaded her from anything that might have resembled him, "I love making potions too."

"Mum always says that I'm just like you. And she said you were the best in their class."

"Did she now?" Draco arched an eyebrow at Hermione, "Well, she's right. I was the best. I still am."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but smiled. "Ara, could please go downstairs with Harry and Ginny, so Draco and I can talk." Hermione requested of her daughter.

"But _mu-um_ ," Ara whined, "I want to stay and talk too."

"And you can," Hermione smiled, "But after we've finished. Now, downstairs, please."

Ara huffed out a breath, "Fine."

Hermione almost laughed as she stalked away, this child had more Malfoy traits in her than she realised.

"So," Draco began, but Hermione held up her hand.

"Ara Jo Granger," she said loudly, "I meant what I said; downstairs."

Ara peered around the corner, a cheeky grin on her face, "It was worth a shot." And the distinct sound of her footsteps on the stairs signalled that she'd done as Hermione had asked. Nevertheless, Hermione still cast a silencing charm, and nodded at Draco.

"She's mine?" He asked.

Hermione nodded, "She is."

"How is that possible?"

"Really?" Hermione drawled sarcastically at him, "You honestly don't know? I'm surprised Scorpius exists if that's the case."

She watched as his jaw clenched, and he breathed deeply, controlling his temper. "Don't be a fucking smart arse, you know exactly what I mean."

"Sorry. You're right. You didn't deserve that," She sighed, "Eleven years ago Draco, you were the only person I was...with. We were seventeen, well, I was, you were sixteen, for Christ's sake. We were careless, and stupid-" she stopped short at the hurt look on his face, "And I don't regret any of it. Not you. And certainly not her."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco asked, "I think I had the right to know."

"Draco, you know why." She said quietly, "There was no way your family would have allowed it."

"They wouldn't have had a choice," he said, looking like the sullen, spoiled brat she remembered from her teen years.

"You would have told your father to keep out of it? You would have told the Death Eaters or Voldemort? Seriously?"

"When was she born? When's her birthday?" Draco asked, deflecting Hermione's question. Of course his father wouldn't have allowed it. None of them would have. They would have done everything they could to rid Hermione of the baby and remove her from Draco's life.

Hermione closed her eyes, "Her birthday is June fifth." She heard him draw in a breath; June fifth was his birthday and Hermione had cursed the universe relentlessly since her daughter's birth for its sardonic sense of humour.

"And her name?" Draco asked, "Why Ara?"

"I know it was what you would have wanted," Hermione told him, "It is a Malfoy tradition, is it not?"

"What I would have wanted?" Draco scoffed, "I don't think you truly cared about what I would have wanted."

"Don't be an arse," she snapped, "I get that you're mad and I get that you deserved to know, but would we even be discussing our child if you _did_ know?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, if you knew that I was pregnant, would she even be here? Would you have wanted her?" Hermione was trying to remain calm, but her temper was growing. She'd tortured herself enough over the years for not telling him, but she didn't need him to act as if she hadn't. "Would you even have acknowledged that you had sex with me? I mean, I was just a filthy mudblood, imagine the scandal."

Draco knew she was right. As much as they had both wished they could have been together in public, he knew that it could never have been a reality. He would have denied ever having been with her, would have scoffed at her and made look a fool. Of course he would have.

"And you've taught her magic? And potion making?" Draco asked, deflecting her questions again, and she nodded, "But how? You didn't even finish school yourself."

Hermione shot him a withering glare, "Seriously Malfoy? You don't think I'm capable of teaching her?"

"No, that's not-"

"I'll have you know that I did finish school," she snapped, "Professor Dumbledore insisted. My classes were held here and at home, he organised The Order to teach me privately." She was glaring at him.

"My apologies, it's just...fuck! I have a child," he rubbed a hand across his face, "I have a child I know nothing about. I'm a little stunned here."

"You have two children," Hermione pointed out.

Draco returned the glare she had given him, "I fucking know I have two children," he hissed at her, "But I am aware of my son. My daughter, however, was hidden from me."

Hermione felt a rush of mixed emotions at his use of _daughter._ Yes, Ara was his and his acknowledgement of her as such gave her a rush of joy. But at the same time her protective instincts cut in and her annoyance at his accusation of hiding her made her stomach clench.

"And how many times do I have to tell you why I hid her? You cannot be this stupid."

Draco exhaled a slow breath. He knew she was right; their daughter would have been killed if the Death Eaters were aware of her existence.

His heart skipped a beat.

 _Their daughter._

He and Granger had a child.

All the anger rushed out of him at the realisation. "We have a child," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. He looked up and she was smiling back at him.

"We do," she said, "We have a child. A beautiful, happy and extremely intelligent child, who is more like you than you can imagine."

Draco stepped forward and surprised her by taking her hand, "I'm sorry," he said, "I know why you hid her. Thank you."

"Thank you?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded, "If you hadn't done that, hidden her I mean, you both would have been hunted down and killed. My father would have made sure of it."

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded, "And I'm sorry I had to hide her from you. I truly am. Draco, I wanted nothing more for her than to know who her father was – is. She missed out on you, and I am sorry that you missed out on her."

"I think you've done a pretty good job on your own," he said, "I don't know how you raised a child and fought in a war at the same time. I was barely able to focus on myself."

Hermione shrugged, "I had a lot of help. And I knew she was safe, she was well protected by The Order."

"I don't know where to go from here, how to proceed." Draco said.

"What do you mean?"

"She's my daughter, I should bear some of the responsibility of raising her."

Hermione held up her hand "Draco," she smiled, "Thank you, but we're fine. You owe us nothing and honestly, do you think she'll be accepted by your family, even after everything that happened? Have they changed so much that a half-blood child will be accepted as a Malfoy?"

"They won't have a choice," he snapped, "She's mine, she's a Malfoy."

Hermione bit back the automatic response that Ara was half Granger, her heart was soaring at the fact that he had accepted her as his own, whether he realised it or not. "Draco, it's not that I don't want you in her life, quite the opposite in fact, but I'm just concerned as to what this will mean for you, and for her."

Draco laughed an incredulous laugh, "Seriously Granger, you're concerned about _me_?"

"I am," she stated simply, ignoring the snark in his voice, "I could have told the entire world about her, about you and me, I could have made your life hell, but I didn't. I knew what it meant for all of us if I had, and I still know what it means. You're married Draco. Married. And you have a new baby. Do you honestly believe that your wife will be okay with this?"

Draco didn't respond. He knew she was right. Astoria would be furious, as would her parents, as would his mother. And no explanation would suffice, regardless of how he had felt about Hermione all those years ago. But this was his daughter, and he wanted to be in her life.

He wondered if had this chance meeting had happened earlier, before Scorpius, before Astoria, would he have felt the same? Or was it because of the arrival of his son and the protective instincts that came with being a parent that he felt an overwhelming need to protect her also, was that what he was feeling here?

"Draco, you can be in her life, I want nothing more for you and for her, but," she hesitated, before carefully telling him, "We've been okay up until now, and we will be okay."

Draco saw fit to explode at her outright rejection of his help, of her accusation of him not helping before now. But then it hit him. She was giving him an out. And easy escape, where he could simply walk away and no one would know. He wouldn't have to acknowledge her, wouldn't have to explain her to anyone, he could simply pretend she didn't exist and no one would be any the wiser. But the burning instinct inside him told him otherwise. He was her father and nothing would change that, and he needed to be a part of her life, no matter the consequences from his family.

"Hermione, she's my daughter and I want to know her," Draco said, "That is if she wants to know me," he scratched the back of his head nervously, "Maybe I can get to know her first, and then I can tell my family."

"Draco, I'm happy for you to spend as much time with her as you like. And I know she wants to see you, and Scorpius, if that's okay? She's talked non-stop about him since she saw him with you." She tilted her head to one side and looked thoughtfully at him, "But I have to admit I am nervous about the rest of your family meeting her."

He had to agree; he wasn't sure how he was going to tell them himself. Although he knew that the moment his mother saw her, she would fall in love with her granddaughter. For all the negatives Narcissa Malfoy was associated with, hating children wasn't one of them. In fact, he was sure that she was hoping for an army of grandchildren, not just the one his wife reluctantly agreed to have.

"Okay," He finally said, "There's no hurry to tell them, or for her to meet them. But I have eleven years to catch up on, and since she's off to school in three weeks, I don't have a lot of time."

Hermione nodded, "That sounds fair."

She smiled at him, knowing that this could have gone a very different way. He could have made demands, could have insisted that his family meet her immediately, he could have even attempted to take her away. But he hadn't. This was the Draco that she'd known and loved in her teens and she was grateful for it.

"Now, did you want to meet with your daughter?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I am so very overwhelmed with the support for the previous two chapters, thank you all for the feedback xx**

 **I hope the time jump hasn't pissed everyone off...I did write another chapter to precede this one(or at least attempted to) but it didn't work in the way I wanted, so I scrapped most of it and parts of it made it to this one and the next one that is coming.**


	11. Chapter 11

"What are you two up to?"

Hermione couldn't help the huge smile that crossed her face when she entered the kitchen. Ara and Draco were both peering into her new cauldron, identical frowns on their faces. Small piles of chopped and shaved ingredients were neatly placed on the counter and Ara was adding them and carefully stirring as Draco instructed her.

"We're making stuff." Ara informed her without looking up from the steaming pot.

"I can see that." Hermione crossed to them and sat opposite to where they were both in deep concentration. "What exactly is it that you're making?"

Ara huffed out a frustrated breath - very much in the vein of her father – indicating to Hermione that she was distracting them, "We're making a regerminating potion so I can grow things quicker in the garden and make even more potions."

"You had better check with Neville before you use that," Hermione warned.

"Longbottom?" Draco asked, a confused look on his face. "Why would he care?"

"Yes. Neville Longbottom." Hermione replied, "I'm surprised you haven't heard. He's one of the best Herbologists around."

"Really?" Draco's face had turned from confused to interested, "I'm looking for a new Herbologist, I wonder if he'd be interested?"

"Send him an owl. I'm sure he won't have a heart attack when he gets it." Hermione snorted a laugh, the history between the pair wasn't great, but she was sure Neville would jump at the chance to work for Draco; he was fast becoming one of the best potion makers around. She turned to Ara, "You need to be careful with that. Neville has put a lot of plants out there for you, and I'm sure uncle Harry would prefer to not have a jungle in the garden."

" _Mu-um_ ," Ara groaned and shook her head, "We're not making enough to grow a jungle."

"Well, that's okay then. And I suppose it's better than the kissing potion Uncle George was going to show you how to make."

Draco looked up at her, his eyes wide, "He was going to show her _what_?"

"Kissing potion. He came up with it himself." Hermione laughed.

Draco turned to his daughter, "You won't ever be learning how to make that."

Ara frowned at him, "Why?"

"Yeah, Draco," Hermione chortled, "Why?"

"Because you won't be kissing anyone until you're at least forty." Draco frowned and pointed a finger at her, "Actually, you won't be needing a kissing potion ever."

Ara put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, "Did you use a kissing potion when you kissed my mum? Because _you_ kissed _her_ before you were forty."

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth at the look on Draco's face. A mix of shock and embarrassment at his daughters question had her almost laughing.

He had been seeing their daughter regularly, getting to know her as he had requested, before she headed off to school. And it had not yet ceased to amuse Hermione at Draco's surprise when it came to their daughter's bluntness. He had obviously forgotten what she was like when they were at school together. For all of her Malfoy traits, Ara's bluntness and her eagerness to learn were exactly like Hermione when she was eleven. And Hermione had encouraged it. She loved her daughter's natural curiosity, loved her forceful nature, loved that she had managed to embarrass her father.

Draco cleared his throat and glanced at Hermione, his cheeks glowing pink with embarrassment, "Um, well..."

Hermione shook her head, "No baby, he didn't use a kissing potion. He didn't need to," She winked at her daughter, "He was very good at it."

"Eww, mum, that's disgusting," Ara giggled and Draco's face grew redder.

"Hey," Hermione said, feigning indignance, "If he hadn't kissed me, you wouldn't be here."

Ara pressed her hands to her ears, "No! Don't say that! That's even more disgusting than the kissing."

Hermione laughed and looked at Draco, who was still looking at her with shock. "We have a rule," Hermione told him, "We tell the truth and answer questions honestly."

"Yeah," Ara said with a comical shudder, "But this time you should have lied mum."

Draco looked between the pair, and a twinge of jealousy shot through him. They were mother and daughter, but clearly they were friends, and he had missed out on watching them together, watching the ease at which Hermione spoke to her and answered her questions without any trace of embarrassment or discomfort. And the way in which Ara asked her questions without worrying in the slightest that she would be hushed, or lied to, or to have her question waved away, was the total opposite of how he was raised. He was glad that Hermione had taught their daughter to be brutally honest, but it was still taking some getting used to.

He had been concerned that it would be awkward or stilted with her, his experience with children was limited to his son, and at just 8 months old Scorpius wasn't really up for much conversation. But after just a few minutes with Ara, he discovered that he had nothing to worry about. Much like Hermione at the same age, she oozed confidence and had no problems conversing with him at all.

"Well," Draco finally said, "Your mother is right, no kissing potion was necessary."

Ara screwed up her face and looked between them both, "Can we just make this potion and not be gross?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Draco said, his eyes flicking to Hermione, who was still chuckling at them both, "And just so you know, I'll be talking to your Uncle George about kissing potions."

"He won't listen, he never does." Ara laughed, "And what about Scorpius, will you let him make kissing potions?"

Draco shook his head, "No, neither of my children will be kissing anyone, ever."

"Is that what your dad said to you?"

Draco looked to Hermione, who simply smiled and shrugged, allowing him to answer however he saw fit. "No. My father never really said anything to me, only who _not_ to kiss," His eyes flicked quickly to Hermione and then he nodded towards the cauldron, "You need to stir that four times clockwise."

Ara did as he asked, looking up at him when she was done, "Like that?"

Draco nodded, "Perfect. Now add the last pile of ingredients and stir it once."

Hermione watched the pair, delighted that they were having this time together and equally delighted that they at least had some common ground to start on. She had not been surprised at all when Ara began to show an interest in potion making, Draco had been a natural at it, and when she showed a proclivity for it, Hermione had asked Neville to help out with some safer plants in the garden so as not to encourage any mischief. She had enough encouragement from George and Ron to cause Hermione a few grey hairs; she didn't need exploding potions to add to the mix.

The few days that Ara and Draco had spent together had gone by as if they had never missed out on her eleven years. She knew that Draco had been nervous at first, but she also knew that her daughter was more than capable of holding a conversation with him.

"Are you coming to visit tomorrow?" Ara asked, biting her bottom lip.

"I can," Draco told her, "But not until the afternoon."

Ara's cheeks turned pink as she asked, "Can you bring Scorpius?'

"If you want me to, I'll definitely bring him." Draco said with a smile, "He likes you, so I'm sure he'll love to come and see you again."

Ara's face split into a huge smile, "Oh, I like him too. You should bring him every time. And mum can look after him if he gets all whiny."

Hermione huffed a laugh and Draco glanced at her, "I'm happy to watch him." She poked Ara in the ribs. "Even if I have no choice."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked and Hermione nodded, "And Harry and Ginny won't mind?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and Harry and Ginny won't mind all." She assured him, "Besides, Albus and Scorpius will be at school together eventually, so best they get to know each other now."

Draco nodded his thanks, and Hermione felt an all too familiar tingle down her spine. But she pushed it away. He was married. And no matter what is was she felt, nothing could ever happen between them.

She lowered her eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed the look of want she was sure was written all over her face. She had tried to keep him out of her thoughts since Ara's birth, even though she was a daily reminder of him. But ever since she'd seen him again, and since he'd been visiting, he was almost all she could think of.

"Is this ready?" Ara asked her eyes flicking from the hourglass on the table as the last grains of sand slipped through the narrow neck in the centre back to the bubbling cauldron.

Draco peered in as well and nodded, "It sure is. Grab that bottle."

Ara handed the small green bottle to him and pressed her palms to the counter top, watching eagerly as he slowly poured the liquid into it. "Can I use it straight away?"

"You can," He told her, "But Hermione is right, not too much or you will have a jungle out there."

"Awesome!" she exclaimed, taking the bottle from him and leaping off the stool.

"Ara. I'm serious," Draco said, "Only a few drops. And only on one or two plants, okay?"

She looked at him quizzically, not expecting the serious tone in his voice. "Okay, Draco. I promise."

"Okay. Off you go then."

Ara scampered out the door, headed for the garden, "How'd that feel?" Hermione asked.

"What's that?"

"Disciplining her?"

"I'm not sure that was discipline." He looked at the door she had just run out of, "Was it?"

Hermione reached across the counter and squeezed his hand, "It certainly was. She would have gone mad with that if you hadn't said anything, and you would have been hurriedly brewing a herbicide. She likes to push boundaries, and thanks to you, Harry and Ginny will still have their neat and tidy garden."

Draco didn't respond. He was looking down at where their hands were joined. He inhaled sharply, his heart racing in his chest. One small touch, completely innocent, took him back instantly to their teenage years. She had always had this effect on him; it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and he simply couldn't breathe around her.

Hermione pulled her hand back, but he stopped her, not ready to let go and grasping her hand as if frightened that she was about leave him again.

He glanced up at her, and saw something flicker across her face. A look of disappointment, gone as quick as it came. And if he was reading her correctly, it was disappointment that the promise they had made of always being together was now impossible. And if he was being honest, he was more disappointed than she was. He brushed his thumb across her hand and closed his eyes, and was taken back to that first moment when he kissed her. She was everything and he had let her memory go, had caved to his mother's will and married a woman he didn't love.

He had been too pissed at her for abandoning him to wonder what the exact reason had been, and had turned back into the arrogant, spoiled brat, who hated to be wrong or to be disregarded so flippantly. He had never dared to think that he would be standing in front of her all these years later still feeling the same way he felt back then. He had both loved and hated her for so long; it had been difficult to imagine the situation he was now confronted with.

He released her hand and tamped down the need to throw her on the counter and have his way with her. He needed to leave, needed to get away from her before he admitted how much he loved her and begged her to tell him the same. He pushed away from the counter and leaned back against the cupboard behind him, folding his arms across his chest and gazing down to his feet.

"Draco?" she said quietly, "What's wrong?"

He looked up at her, "I think you know already."

Hermione frowned, and he held up a hand, waving off both his response and her question. He rubbed a hand across his face. "I have to go." He said shortly. "This is...I have to go."

Hermione stood without a word and crossed to the back door, calling for Ara to come and see Draco off. She turned back to him, an unreadable look on her face, and he wanted to apologise. But he couldn't be near her right then. Not because he didn't want to be near her, but because he didn't trust himself.

"Draco, are you sure you'll bring Scorpius tomorrow?" Ara asked bounding into the room, oblivious to the tension.

"I promise," He dropped to one knee in front of her, "Give us a hug."

Ara wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, "Thank you for showing me that potion."

Draco hugged her back, "You're welcome and I'm happy to show you more whenever you want." He released her and stood, looking at Hermione, their eyes meeting and lingering, both knowing that the moment that they had just had was much more than a simple fleeting memory of what they once had.

"We'll see you tomorrow then." Hermione said in a voice that he recognised as annoyed.

He simply nodded, and bid them both farewell, heading down the hallway without a glance back.

* * *

Hours, and an interrogation from Ginny later, Hermione was curled in bed with a book. She was barely reading though, going over and over the same lines repeatedly, not taking anything in. Her mind had been a jumbled mess since the weird interaction between her and Draco in the kitchen.

She had a reasonably good idea as to what had happened; he had never been able to hide his emotions, not from her anyway. And the reason she knew was that when she had reached out and touched his hand, she had felt a tingle that she'd not felt in a long time.

It was that tingle she had felt every time she saw him when they were younger, every time she was with him. And she had cursed herself for touching him, for putting them into a situation that they had both been deliberately avoiding. She had watched as he had grasped her retreating hand, seeing the same need she had for him cross his face in an unspoken need for her.

And she saw the conflict in his face. He was married, but she had to wonder just how stable that marriage was. She had avoided any and all mention of it, only recently becoming aware of who it was that he'd married. And she had to admit that she was dumbfounded. She knew of Astoria's reputation at school. It was the same reputation that Ron had asked her about all those years ago when it had come to Lavender. And the simple fact was, that Lavender wasn't the school tramp, but it was well known that Astoria was. So for Draco to be married to her was something that Hermione had shaken her head at numerous times.

Obviously the Greengrass name carried with it more than she knew, or wanted to know. And clearly his mother (and most likely his father) had decided that her name meant more than her reputation. The perfect pure-blood match, as it were, but she was still surprised that he had agreed to it.

But she also hadn't been sure of exactly what she had expected from him. It wasn't as though he could have kissed her, or even hugged her. Their lingering hands were more than she should have even ventured. She should never have touched him, should have resisted, but she'd not truly thought a simple squeeze of his hand could have stirred up so many past emotions.

And she couldn't afford the sentimentality that she was feeling. She had a daughter to worry about. She was headed off to school in less than two weeks, and she was sure there would be some curiosity when it came to her. When her name was Granger, but she looked for all the world like a Malfoy, there would most definitely be some questions.

"Mum?"

Hermione looked up to see her daughter peeking around her door. "Hey baby. Are you alright?"

Ara nodded, "Can I sleep in here?"

"Of course sweetheart," Hermione told her and pulled back the covers. Ara closed the door behind her and crawled into Hermione's bed, snuggling up next to her. "What's going on?"

Ara shrugged, "Nothing. I just want to sleep in here with you."

Hermione shifted so she was laying beside her, "Are you worried about leaving?"

"No," she said, "I can't wait to go."

Hermione kissed her forehead, "So what's going on then?"

"What was he like?" Ara asked, "At school."

"Draco?" Hermione asked and Ara nodded. Hermione screwed her nose up, "Well, actually, he was an arse."

Ara laughed, "Really?"

"Really," Hermione nodded, "He was spoiled, and moody, and nasty. And out of everyone that was at school at the time, I think he hated me the most."

"Then why did you like him?"

"I didn't at first. In fact, I punched him in the face one time." Hermione laughed at Ara's eyes went wide, "He deserved it."

"Maybe that was when he changed," Ara suggested, "You probably scared him."

Hermione shrugged, "Maybe you're right. He wasn't quite as nasty to me after that." She watched as Ara absorbed the information and could almost see the line of questions forming in her mind.

"Is that when he started to like you?"

"No. I think that's just when he knew not to mess with me," Hermione winked at Ara making her laugh, "He told me that he fell in love with me when I went to the Yule Ball."

"Oh," Ara swooned. She'd always loved the pictures of her mother dressed up at the Hogwarts ball, and when she was smaller she insisted that Hermione was actually a princess and Viktor was Prince Charming and had loved when Ginny had made up fantastical stories about Hermione that night. "Everyone probably fell in love with you then."

Hermione laughed. The one person she _was_ trying to impress that night had her in tears. "No, I don't think _everyone_ fell in love with me. I had a crush on your Uncle Ron, but he didn't even know I existed."

Ara screwed her face up, "Eww. Uncle Ron? Really mum?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, really. I know it's weird now, but I did like him back then."

"Imagine if he was my dad," Ara said and then burst out laughing.

Hermione laughed with her. Ron was one of her favourite Uncles. He, along with George had encouraged mischief from an early age, and she adored them both. But she had never looked towards him as a father like she did with Harry.

"Oh, imagine that!" Hermione laughed, "I'd have two children to take care of."

Ara giggled, "I love Uncle Ron, but I'm glad Draco's my dad and not him."

"Me too," Hermione said, "I'm just sorry it took so long for you to meet him."

"That's okay, I know why we couldn't meet sooner," Ara took a breath, "Why did Draco leave so quickly today? Was he angry at me?"

"Oh baby, no," Hermione assured her, "He loves being with you."

"So why-" Ara stopped, looking at Hermione with a frown, "Did you have a fight with him when I went outside?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. We didn't have a fight. But I think he needed to leave because he was confused."

"About what?"

Hermione took her daughters hand and kissed her fingers, wondering just how to explain to her eleven year old what had happened, especially since she was still confused about it herself.

"You know how we've talked about why Draco didn't know about you?" Ara nodded and Hermione continued, "Well, all those years ago, when Draco and I were secretly together, Draco told me that he loved me, and I told him the same. But when I learned that you were growing inside me, I didn't think he would love me anymore because-"

"Because his family called you a mudblood." Ara interrupted.

"Yes, that. But I also thought that he would blame me, that he would tell me that it was my fault that I got pregnant. And I was scared that he wouldn't love me anymore."

"But how was it your fault?" Ara's face scrunched up, "You said that you and Draco had sex together, so that means he can't blame you."

Hermione smiled. Their _where babies come from_ talk happened a lot sooner than she had expected, and she had laughingly blamed Harry and Ginny for it. Ginny's first pregnancy hadn't brought up any questions, but when they announced that she was pregnant with Albus, Ara's questions started. And then she was so grossed out by it all, the questions stopped.

"And you're right. We were both involved in that," Ara screwed he face up in disgust and Hermione gave a soft laugh, "But I was still scared that he would think that it was my fault."

"So why was he confused today?"

"I think that sometimes when you tell someone that you love them, you will always love them even if you don't end up together."

Ara raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Does he still love you? Do _you_ love him?"

"I don't know if he loves me, baby," Hermione sighed, "But I will always love him because he gave me you."

"Maybe he just thinks the same." Ara said thoughtfully, "Maybe he was confused because he didn't know it's okay to love you because of me."

Hermione tapped her on the nose, "You know what? I think you might be right."

"You should tell him that it's okay."

"I'll talk to him about tomorrow." She leaned in and kissed her daughter's cheek. But her stomach was in knots; she hated lying to her, hated that she couldn't explain the situation better than she had. While her daughter may have understood the basic mechanisms of how she came to be, she was far too young to understand the _moment_ that had happened between her parents.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way about him, not anymore. She hadn't lied to Ara when she said she would always love him because he was her father, but she had tamped down all the feelings she had had for him and had gotten on with life.

At least she thought she had.

She should have been blindingly happy at the prospect that he may have felt the same way, but all she felt was deflated. She couldn't talk to him about any of this; couldn't ask him if he had felt the same tingle she had when their hands had touched. She couldn't ask him because he was married, that, and she was terrified that he would say that he didn't feel anything for her, that what she saw was all in her head.

And it should have been an easy conversation, they had a child together for Christ's sake, but the way he had shut down in just seconds and completely retreated back into the Draco she first knew - broody and sullen, and hating that something had happened that he couldn't explain - had instantly annoyed her. _He_ had grabbed her hand, after all, stopping her from pulling away from him.

She had tried to keep her annoyance at him in check, but his face when his eyes lingered on hers let her know that he was well aware of her mood, and she knew that there was much more going on in his head. And she hated it, hated the look on his face because she knew it was same look on her own face, and she knew that he would have seen it. And it would have been the reason that he'd left so quickly.

The rush of emotion she had felt – was still feeling – had been the same rush she had felt twelve years ago. She was still in love with him and she was struggling to hide it. Ginny and Harry both knew it, and her daughter knew it. And now, she assumed, he knew it.

She watched as Ara's eyes drooped shut, falling asleep with a smile on her face. Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, and blinked back the tears that were filling her eyes. She didn't deserve him. She'd run off on him, left him with no explanation and yet she saw the same longing in his eyes every time he looked at her as she felt for him.

A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

She would swallow her feelings and keep them hidden because, no, she didn't deserve him.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Thanks again for the amazing response to the previous chapter (and the story as a whole). As always, I'm still finding myself overwhelmed with the support I have received for my writing - the one joy of being an insomniac :)**


	12. Chapter 12

"Mother?" Draco called as he apparated into the Manor, "Mother, are you here?"

He heard footsteps and then the surprised voice of his mother from behind him, "Draco, darling. Whatever are you doing here?"

Draco turned to look at her. She'd be pissed, probably more than pissed, but he had to tell her. He was certain Astoria would already be planning on just how to sell her version of the story.

He had kept his word to Hermione and not told anyone about their daughter, instead he had spent the previous three weeks getting to know her. He had sat fascinated during their first meeting, watching her as she talked a mile a minute, as if she had to catch him up on all of her eleven years in one afternoon. And he had thought her to be so like Hermione when he had first known her, he actually wondered how Ara had come to look like him. But as he got to know her, he realised she was as much a Malfoy as she was a Granger.

And he was completely besotted with her. She was bright and forceful, curious about everything around her, full of questions, insisting that he tell her all about his family, and also insisting that he teach her more about potion making. She had a natural talent for it, more so then even he at the same age. And she adored Scorpius. They had met several times and he loved seeing them playing together.

She had left for Hogwarts two weeks earlier, excited and eager to get there. And as much as he wanted to see her off on the train, he knew that he couldn't. It would cause a stir that she didn't deserve, and Hermione was due the privilege of seeing her off anyway; she had done an amazing job raising her on her own.

He had told Astoria about her that morning, and as he'd predicted, she'd thrown a tantrum; yelling and screaming at him, calling him a filthy mudblood-loving piece of scum and storming out leaving her infant son behind without a thought. He had shrugged it off, not caring a whiff about her opinion. She knew his reputation prior to marrying him, and he had certainly been aware that while she might have been a pureblood, but she certainly wasn't pure. In fact she was far from it.

"Draco?" Narcissa's voice had lowered, and her face was concerned, "Is everything alright?"

"Can we sit?" He asked and nodded towards the settee, "There's something I need to talk to you about."

Narcissa simply nodded and took a seat on the plush lounge. Draco sat beside her, his back stiff and his jaw set. Hermione had told him that when she had told her parents, she just said it. No fanfare, no explanation, she just told them. He took a breath.

"Mother, I have a daughter."

Narcissa's eyes went wide, "You mean..? Astoria's pregnant again?"

Draco shot her an incredulous look, "What? No, Astoria's not pregnant. You're lucky to have one grandchild from her, there's no way she'd ruin her figure to have another. What I said was that I _have_ a daughter. She's eleven years old. I didn't know about her until recently."

Narcissa's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes went even wider. "But that means..."

"That means I was sixteen? Yes mother, I'm well aware of how old I was." Draco drawled and then added, "Well, actually, she was born on my seventeenth birthday."

"And you're only telling me now?"

"I only found out a few weeks ago." Draco told her, "I had no idea that she even existed. She was hidden from me, and I only learned about her because I ran into her and her mother."

"Her mother hid her from you?" Narcissa hissed. She stood and stared down at him, " _Your_ child was hidden from you? From us? How dare she!"

Draco held up his hand, "Sit down mother, there's more, and I'm sure you won't like it." Narcissa remained standing and Draco shrugged, "Fine. Her mother is Hermione Granger."

He was sure his mother stopped breathing. She was staring at him, completely astounded.

"I told you to sit down." He said and almost laughed as she flopped down beside him in an overly dramatic collapse. "You have a granddaughter who is eleven years old, who is inquisitive, highly intelligent and is currently attending Hogwarts, and like her mother, will be the brightest witch of her age."

"Draco," Narcissa whispered, "Are you sure? This girl is most likely lying to try to trap you."

Draco scowled, "Ara is mine, and I dare anyone to say otherwise." His protective instincts towards his new found daughter were fierce, and he didn't care if the woman sitting across from him was his mother, she would not question what he knew to be the truth.

"Ara?"

"Yes. Hermione kept with our family tradition and named her as such."

"Oh, she saw fit to name her in the Malfoy tradition, but kept her hidden from us. Typical mudblood." The name fell from his mothers tongue with so much malice he stood and moved away from her.

"Say it again mother, I dare you." Draco hissed. "You will not use that term in front of me ever again. Hermione is the reason Lucius still has all his faculties. Had she and Potter not defended him, and for that matter _you_ , father would be as good as dead."

"But Darling, this was before the war," Narcissa said carefully, "You had...with her before the Dark Lord fell."

"Yes mother. I had sex with her before the war." Draco said sarcastically, "I was _having_ sex with her before the war. _Having._ Plural. It was multiple times." His mother looked horrified, but he didn't care. And he told her so. "I truly do not care what you think about it mother, because the fact is simple. I have a daughter and nothing can change that. You can either accept it or not. That's entirely up to you.

"But you will not in any way speak ill of Hermione or my daughter in front of me. If I had my way all those years ago, Hermione and I would have stayed together, and raised our daughter together. Instead I was forced to marry the insipid, spoiled brat, whose reputation as the school tramp you seemed to be able to turn a blind eye to when you insisted that she was perfect for me. The same spoiled brat who just abandoned her baby son and doesn't want to ever see me or him again."

Narcissa's hand flew to her chest, "Oh, Astoria! Where is she? Is she alright?"

Draco shook his head and pressed his fingers to his eyes, "Are you kidding me, mother? Is _she_ alright? Did you not hear what I just said? _She abandoned her son_!"

"I'm sure she's just angry and upset. She would never abandon Scorpius." Narcissa snarked, "I mean really Draco, what were you thinking?"

Draco stared at his mother, stunned at her reaction. He had expected her to be angry at him, but to be defending Astoria was beyond reason. "I loved her. I loved her more than I thought possible. Hermione was – is – everything you told me a good witch should be. But you and that disgusting piece of crap that calls himself my father couldn't see beyond the colour of your own blood to realise she is so much more than Astoria will ever be. And maybe if you opened your eyes, you would actually see Astoria for what she really is; a money grubbing troll, who cares nothing for anyone but herself."

He shot her a look that held so much disgust she actually took a step back.

"When you're ready to be polite and civil, you can speak to me again. Until then, don't bother." He shook his head and disapparated away.

* * *

Hermione shoved _The Daily Prophet_ at him, shaking it violently, "Did you even think about her when you did this!?"

"That wasn't me!" Draco cried, "That was Astoria."

The story had broken about the two of them the previous morning. It was less than a week since Astoria had left, and clearly her first stop had been the Daily Prophet. And almost the entire story was, of course, lies. The only truth was that yes, Draco and Hermione had a child together. But since Astoria had no idea about what had happened between the two of them, she had managed to make it look as though Draco had cheated on her with Hermione and the daughter they had was a result of that affair. What she had neglected to point out was that she and Draco had been together for less than four years, and that all of this happened long before they were anything.

Draco had immediately arrived at Grimmauld Place and Hermione had immediately started yelling at him.

She looked at him unbelievingly, "Wow. You really haven't changed at all, have you? Still blaming everyone else, taking no responsibility for yourself."

Draco blanched, "How am I responsible for this? I didn't go to the papers, Hermione. This was in fact all Astoria. I'm sure she made a small fortune with this. Do you think so little of me that you think I'd want Ara to have to deal with this?"

She looked at him, and saw that he was genuinely hurt, genuinely concerned for his daughter. "Sorry," she said sitting heavily down onto the sofa, "This is just..." She pressed her fingers into her eyes.

Draco sat beside her, rubbing his hand across her back, "Hey, I am sorry. Even I didn't think she would be this vindictive. And the story is all bullshit anyway. Not one mention of her abandoning her baby son."

Hermione gave him a small smile, "Are you okay? With him, I mean."

Draco nodded, "I'm fine. I've taken care of him since the day he was born anyway, she's done nothing. What about you?" He nodded at the newspaper on the floor, "How bad have they been?"

"I don't think bad covers it," She shook her head, "They've been camped at the front door all night and Professor McGonagall actually sent me an owl explaining that every student had been threatened with expulsion if they dared to take pictures of Ara."

"What!?" Draco sounded furious, "Those bastards have gone to the school?"

"No," She assured him, "But they have been trying to get the other students to photograph her."

"Fuck," Draco said through gritted teeth, "I'll bury that vindictive bitch. I'll go to the papers myself and tell them the truth."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry," He said, "This isn't about me."

"No, it is." Hermione corrected, "It's about all of us. But you and I have thick skin, we've been through a war and all that came after it, but Ara hasn't. And she has no idea just how dogged the reporters can be. Even though I have the professors' assurance that her fellow Gryffindors will take care of her, I'm still worried that they'll find a way to get to her. And it's not fair on her, she's the innocent party in all of this and I don't want her to be dragged into a mud-slinging match between you and Astoria."

"And she won't be," He took her hand and linked his fingers through hers, "I promise. She doesn't deserve this, and neither do you. I'm so sorry that she did this. Astoria will be out of my life as soon as possible. I'll make sure of it. And everyone _will_ learn the truth."

"I don't care, you know. Not really. It's infuriating that they think there's a story here, and I guess maybe there is," Hermione bumped him with her shoulder, "But you and I know what happened, Ara knows what happened, and in the end, that's all that matters."

"It was pretty good, that thing that happened." Draco bit down his smile.

Hermione was less successful, her lips twisting into a grin, ""Pretty good? That's all? Just _pretty good_?"

He squeezed their linked hands, "I know it was more than that."

"It _was_ more than that," Hermione agreed, "Are you okay?"

He sighed, "I am. Are you?"

Hermione nodded, "I will be. I'm just sorry this couldn't have been easier. I just wish that none of it mattered, and that she could just be accepted as ours and nothing more."

"I wish it too," Draco shook his head ruefully, "I honestly didn't think she'd go this far. I figured she'd throw a tantrum and leave me, and that would be it. She knows her reputation is all smoke and mirrors, so I didn't think she'd dare. But we'll protect our daughter and keep her safe together."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course I'll do that." Draco said and then smirked, "But I really don't think we need to. She's so much like you, I'm fairly certain she can look after herself."

* * *

"Granger?" The voice sounded surprised.

It was the first time she'd left the house in over a week and she still was unable to avoid running into someone who knew her. Hermione recognised the voice without even having to turn to see who had called out for her. "What do you want Parkinson?"

Hermione turned to face her and got her own surprise. This was Pansy alright, but a much different version. She looked softer somehow. All the harshness of her teenage face was gone, replaced with what Hermione could only describe as happiness. And that happiness might have had something to do with the gorgeous little girl looking up at her from the stroller that Pansy was pushing.

"What is it with you Slytherins? Are you not capable of producing ugly children?" It came out harsher than Hermione had meant, but it was true. This child was beautiful.

"Thank you, I think." Pansy said.

"Why did you stop me?" Hermione asked, there was no point standing here like they were long lost friends, because they weren't. They were far from it. "Was it to give me a serve over Draco? Because if it is, you can forget it. I've heard it all. _You've trapped him, Granger; What were you thinking, Granger? You shouldn't have kept her, Granger; Why didn't you tell him, Granger? You've ruined his life, Granger._ So let me have it, Parkinson. Nothing you have to say could be any worse than what's already been said."

Pansy was looking at her with an unreadable look on her face. "When did you become such a bitch Hermione?"

 _Hermione? What?_ Pansy had never called her _Hermione_ ever. She opened her mouth to respond but immediately snapped it shut. She was shocked into silence.

"Can we talk?" Pansy asked, "There's a cafe just down the block."

"Um," Hermione was still reeling from the shock of Pansy Parkinson speaking to her, and now she was asking to have coffee with her. "Sure."

They walked in silence, Hermione wondering the entire time what Pansy could possibly want to talk to her about. And then it suddenly dawned on her. They were in London. _Muggle_ London. Not wizarding London. Not Diagon Alley. Pansy Parkinson was pushing a stroller through muggle London. She was sure this day couldn't possibly get any more bizarre.

Pansy stopped at an outdoor table, "It's easier with the stroller."

Hermione nodded. It had been a while, but she remembered what it was like when Ara was tiny; the annoyed glances from the indoor patrons when she would have to manoeuvre around them, apologising for the inconvenience.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude." Hermione said as they sat, "It's been a..."

"Shitty week?" Pansy finished for her and Hermione huffed out a laugh.

"You could say that." Hermione smiled down at the gurgling baby, "She's gorgeous."

"Oh, she is!" The waiter that had approached them gushed over Pansy's daughter before taking their orders

Pansy smiled. A genuine smile that Hermione recognised immediately. It was the smile of a mother who was completely in love with her child. "Thank you. Her name is Eliza."

"Hello Eliza," he said making a face at her and she gave him a toothless grin.

"And I'm fairly certain you won't work it out." Pansy said when he'd walked away.

Hermione's brows pulled together, "Work it out?"

"Who her father is." Pansy said, "He's not anyone you would know."

"Oh. I wasn't..." Hermione stammered, but really she was.

"It might surprise you to know he's a muggle," Pansy said with a laugh at the stunned look on Hermione's face, "The world has changed."

"So it would appear." Hermione reached out and tickled the tiny girl's foot. She truly was adorable. A mop of dark curls, and gorgeous olive skin. She had Pansy's bright eyes, but that was all, she was clearly a replica of her father. An image Hermione knew all too well.

"Everyone wondered what happened to you," Pansy said cautiously, "The brightest witch and all."

"Well, now everyone knows." Hermione said, her defences going up slightly. It was a natural reaction, even more so in the last week. The Daily Prophet reporters had been relentless. She had hardly left the house, and when she did she used the apparition point that Harry had set up in the back garden, so none of them would have to run the gauntlet of reporters that had taken up residence outside the front door. The stories had been horrendous. Painting her as 'the other woman;' the one who broke up the most perfect couple ever.

Pansy nodded, "I can't imagine not having her." She smiled at her daughter again and then looked back to Hermione, "And I think I would slap anyone who suggested that I not."

Hermione nodded, understanding what Pansy was saying. "It _was_ suggested," she told her, "But there was no way."

Pansy was silent, but Hermione could see the questions running through her head. "Just ask me, Pansy. Whatever you want to know, just ask."

Pansy nodded but what she said wasn't what Hermione was expecting, "I knew about you."

"Knew what?"

"About you and Draco."

Hermione frowned, "About us when?"

"At school," Pansy huffed out a breath, "He told me. I knew something was different with him, he was acting all weird and very un-Draco-like. So I made him tell me. And you can imagine my surprise. I assumed it was to do with you, I'd seen how he looked at you, but," she shrugged and shook her head, "I couldn't believe it."

Hermione was trying to grasp what she was saying. "But that makes no sense. We said we wouldn't tell anyone, c _ouldn't_ tell anyone."

"And he kept his word. He talks about Blaise and Theo being his best mates, but he couldn't tell them. Not about you. Besides, they had no idea. But it was me and I guessed. And seriously, of all the girls he had throwing themselves at his feet, he picked the only one who wasn't. I hated you more than I thought I could."

Hermione laughed, "No, I think you hated me as much as anyone could."

Pansy conceded the point, "But it was more than that. You got him. _You_." She glanced around and lowered her voice slightly, "Muggle-born Hermione Granger scored purest of the purists Draco Malfoy. Every pure-blood female wanted him. But he wanted only you."

Hermione's eyes went wide, "Wanted me? What?"

Pansy reached over and touched her arm, "He loved you. Completely and utterly loved you. When you disappeared, it almost killed him. And it may come as a complete surprise to you that he still does love you."

Hermione almost dropped her drink, "What?" she whispered, but she wasn't sure which comment she was more stunned at.

"He did. And he does." Pansy said, "I know him better than anyone and he came to me first after he learned what had happened. He was a little stunned, but I knew immediately that he was ecstatic that he had – has - a child with you."

Hermione swallowed. It wasn't possible. She hesitated, "Pansy, can I ask you..?"

"Ask me anything Hermione, please." Pansy said echoing Hermione own words.

"Why _did_ he marry her?

"Because he wanted to get as far away from you as possible." She said and then held up her hand at Hermione's frown. "I mean, she's not you. Not by a long shot, and I think he just wanted to distance himself from you, he wanted to find someone that's was so unlike you that he simply settled for whomever his parents chose. He didn't want to marry her, but I think that he got to a point where he just didn't care anymore."

"That's awful." Hermione whispered. "He hated me _that_ much?"

Pansy shook her head, "No. He never hated you, no matter what he says. He never stopped loving you, but I guess he just felt defeated and that it was just easier to marry her and keep everyone – except himself – happy. And he doesn't love her," Pansy said bluntly, "It's simply a marriage of convenience. The perfect pure-blood union, as it were. I'm sure he has some feelings for her, especially since Scorpius was born, but I'm certain that it's not love."

Hermione frowned at her, "I thought all that purist rubbish was done with?"

Pansy laughed, "For some of us, yes. But these are the Malfoy's and the Greengrass's we're talking about. Draco is clearly not a purist," Pansy winked at her making her blush, "But with some people, the old ways still run deep."

Pansy reached across the table and squeezed her hand, "She wouldn't even let him see his son being born. Refused to let him in the room with her. And she has virtually nothing to do with Scorpius, he has a nanny that takes care of him until Draco gets home. She's all about image and I'm sure she thinks that being a Malfoy is as good as it gets. But the fact that you had him first must be burning her up."

The look of disgust on Pansy's face surprised her, "But I did all that to him as well," Hermione said, "He wasn't there when Ara was born, he hasn't even been in her life."

"You were seventeen and probably scared out of your mind that they'd do Merlin knows what to you. You had a pretty good reason to keep him out of it."

"You _are_ Pansy Parkinson, yeah?" Hermione pressed her finger into Pansy's arm, "This isn't some sort of glamour charm, or polyjuice potion is it?"

Pansy laughed, "You might be surprised, Hermione. We might have more in common than you think. All those years ago did you feel alone when you had her?" Hermione nodded and she continued, "Well, it's the same for me now. Apart from Draco and Blaise, I have no contact with any of my old friends. They've all shunned me, and do you think my parents have had anything to do with me since I told them I wanted to marry a muggle? I haven't seen nor spoken to them in almost five years. And ever since Eliza was born, I've been terrified that they will somehow take her and hurt her."

The baby stirred; clearly she had had enough of watching them both from her stroller and wanted to join in. Pansy picked her up with a practiced ease which had Hermione's stomach fluttering and wishing back the days of doing the same with her baby girl.

When Ara was this age, a war was raging and she was in hiding. So the simple act of coffee with a friend had been out of the question. The best she could do was to sit in the garden at Grimmauld Place with Ginny. But she had to admit, this was actually nice. Sitting here with the last person on earth she imagined she ever would was exactly that. Nice.

And to have someone who understood just a fraction of the fear she felt when her own daughter was born, was something new. Her friends had been understanding and had protected both she and Ara, but they never truly felt the daily fear and anxiety of having the threat of losing their child hanging over them.

The baby picked up a spoon and banged it on the table, startling herself, before laughing a drooly giggle. Pansy quickly swapped the loud spoon for a much quieter plastic rattle, much to her daughter's disgust.

"That's far too loud sweetheart," Pansy told her, "You'll disrupt everyone."

Hermione laughed. There was the old Pansy. Her snide remark was aimed squarely at the older couple at the next table, who had both glared at the banging spoon. She reached across the table and tapped her fingers in front of Eliza, "Go ahead baby girl, you make as much noise as you want." She glared back at the couple in a way that made them both look guilty and turn away.

"You're alright Granger," Pansy said with a smile.

"Thanks Parkinson," Hermione laughed, "So are you.

Pansy reached across the table and squeezed her hand, "Give him a chance. He does love you, he always has. And I suspect it's not just him that feels that way." Hermione's face flushed and Pansy smiled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"That's okay. You're not wrong, but everything is a mess at the moment. And I certainly don't need to add another layer to the mix."

"That's not the Hermione Granger I remember." Pansy said, "The Hermione Granger I remember never backed down from a challenge."

Hermione laughed, "Yeah, _that_ Hermione Granger is long gone. She now has a child to think of."

"Well, from what I hear, she's exactly like you. Draco says she's a force to be reckoned with."

Hermione smiled at the idea that Draco had been telling Pansy about Ara, "She looks exactly like him, and honestly I see very little of myself in her. She has more Malfoy traits than he realises. But, yes, she is very stubborn and very inquisitive."

"I'd love to meet her." Pansy said and her own daughter decided that she'd had enough, and began to wriggle restlessly and the quiet baby talk turned to loud grizzles. Pansy stood and wrestled her into the stroller, apologising for the ruckus, "We should do this again, Hermione. I know we weren't friends at school, but I'd love to change that."

Hermione smiled and nodded, "I'd like that too."


	13. Chapter 13

He was drunk.

No. That was an understatement.

Hammered. Baked. Arse over tit. All seemed like more appropriate descriptions.

A month had passed since Astoria had gotten her version of the story to the press, all the sordid details of his and Hermione's teenage affair had been printed for the entire world to see and he hadn't been able to leave the house. Her entire family had gotten in on the story and turned it into the scandal of the year. And her lawyer had already contacted his. It was messy already and the fight hadn't even started.

His mother was currently not speaking to him; Scorpius being the only reason she had not completely shunned him. And since Ara was away at school, he had no real reason to go to Grimmauld Place to see Hermione. And that was pissing him off more than anything.

It felt like his life had imploded, so tonight he decided to get drunk. So drunk that the world would disappear, which would at least temporarily solve his problems. Of course hiding from the world meant hiding in a muggle bar, which did nothing to damp down his anger, and when the bartender cut him off, he'd hurled abuse at him and a burly security guard had been called to escort him from the premises.

Then he realised that disapparating would be impossible, and that there was no one to collect him from his embarrassing position on the footpath outside one of London's finest pubs- or so he'd been told. He'd not so much as set a foot in a muggle pub in all his life, and right now he was less than impressed – stupid muggles had no idea who he was (although muggles made excellent whiskey, he'd give them that).

So he turned on his heel intending to storm off, but all he could manage was an inelegant stumble into a stone wall that stopped him from diving headfirst onto the cobbled footpath.

He felt a pair of large hands grip his shoulders and haul him upright, "Steady there mate," the gruff voice of the same oaf who had dragged him out the door said. Draco swayed on the spot trying to focus on the dark mass in front of him and shaking his head to clear the blurred vision, "You need me to call you a cab?"

Draco couldn't make sense of what he was saying; _Why would anyone call him anything besides his name? And what was a cab? Was it some sort of muggle insult?_

"No," his voice was slurred, "You don't call me anything."

"Christ mate, you _are_ drunk," the man chuckled, "Did you want a cab to get you home?"

Draco scowled at him; he hated not knowing the muggle reference, "No. I don't want a cab."

He steadied himself, but the world was a blur and walking in a straight line was near impossible. So he stumbled away in a very un-Malfoy-like fashion, traipsing aimlessly through London's streets not sure of where he was or even where he was going.

 _Bloody, sodding, selfish, stupid Astoria!_ This was all her fault, she did this to him. She'd cocked up everything. Why the fuck did he marry her? He should have refused, should have went looking for Hermione and told everyone to sod off. Of course, then he wouldn't have his son, and that would be tragic. But then maybe he and Hermione would have had a son as well, and then his life would be perfect, not the balls up it had turned into.

He continued walking, following his feet, mumbling and cursing and finding himself on street that had become all too familiar. He stood staring at the rows of houses, nothing to distinguish one from another save the numbers over the doors. And this one, the one his feet stopped in front of, the one just a few months ago he wouldn't have even noticed, the one that had been hidden from him, now felt more familiar than his own home.

"Hermione!" he yelled, knowing that if any of the muggle neighbours looked out, they'd think him mad; standing there yelling at nothing, 12 Grimmauld Place being hidden from the prying eyes of everyone in muggle London.

Inside, Hermione frowned, _what the hell?_

Harry and Ginny, who only just headed upstairs after the three friends had just returned from an evening in London's West End, peered almost comically back down the stairs, both looking at her questioningly.

Hermione shrugged, about to tell them she had no idea what was going on when he yelled again.

"Hermione!" It was louder this time, and somewhat slurred.

"Draco?" Hermione opened the door and found him scowling and swaying slightly. She reached out to steady him, "Draco, what's going on?"

"Everything's fucked!" he yelled, "Everything!"

Hermione pulled him into the house, thanking Merlin that Ara was at school; she didn't need her daughter to see her new found father in the state he was in. Harry and Ginny were at the bottom of the stairs before she'd closed the door, Harry grabbing Draco quickly, stopping him from tumbling over from the force with which Hermione had pulled him through the door.

"Fuck you Potter!" Draco slurred, "And you...other Potter."

"Oh, this is funny?" Hermione snapped when Ginny snorted a laugh.

"This is fucking hilarious!" Ginny laughed, which even had Harry scowling at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hermione demanded turning Draco towards her.

"If you would have remembered that charm, none of this would have happened!" Draco yelled.

"Excuse me?" Hermione hissed, " _If I would have remembered_? You're not seriously blaming me for this?"

"Yes, I'm fucking blaming you!" He spat, "This is all your fault."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, "You have got to be kidding me! If I remember correctly, there were two of us involved. Two. Me _and_ you. You forgot to perform that charm as much as I did. And for her entire life you've not known anything about her and the minute you do learn about her, you think I've ruined your life?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak but Hermione hadn't finished.

"I told you I didn't want anything from you. I told you that you could walk away and nothing would change. No one knew that she was yours, no one. _You_ made the decision to tell them, _you_. Not me, not her. This was your choice. So you don't get to be pissed at me for a decision you made.

"I raised her Draco, me. And I kept you out of it to protect your precious Malfoy name. I could have made your life hell back then, I could have announced to the world that pure-blood Draco Malfoy lowered himself to sleep with a mudblood like Hermione Granger. But I didn't. I didn't because I knew what it would mean for you, and I certainly knew what it would mean for me. Humiliation, at best. You would have denied everything. You would have told everyone that I was lying, making it all up to try to make myself look good. That I wanted to better myself by spreading rumours and lies that I slept with you.

"And now you dare to say I ruined your life. I've done nothing. _Nothing._ Nothing but protect you. It was your stupid fucking wife that told the world, not me." She sucked in a deep breath and clenched her jaw. It took everything she had to not repeat punching him in the face, "You know what? I don't want to see you. Not now, not ever. Get out. Get out now!" She stormed up the stairs, leaving the three of them in her wake.

"Impressive," Ginny said and slowly nodded her head, "You arrive here drunk, clearly not giving a toss about anyone but yourself. You piss off the mother of your child, who has done nothing but protect you, telling her she's ruined your life. Geez Malfoy, you really are a twat."

"I'm not a twat. I'm..." he pointed his finger at her, "I'm...you..."

Ginny snorted a laugh.

"Ginny, seriously, this is _not_ funny." Harry scowled at Ginny and gripped Draco's arm, turning him towards him, "What are you doing here Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head as if to clear it, "She's...Ara...and I...didn't know...and now...fuck!"

They waited for him to finish, but it seemed as though he had lost all sense of what he was going to say. He was staring up at the stairs, his face a picture of shock and despair.

Harry swallowed and looked at Ginny. Draco was hurt. His life was falling apart and he had no idea how to fix it. So naturally he was taking it out on Hermione. Ginny squeezed Harry's arm, "Wait here." She told him and headed down the hallway. She returned moments later hand handed Draco a small vial.

Draco eyed her suspiciously, "What's that?"

"I'm not trying to poison you," she said sternly, "It'll sober you up so we can talk like adults."

While it had been strained at first, Draco's visits to see his daughter had become more frequent and things had become more civil between the former school rivals. They hadn't planned on being friends, in fact they still weren't, but for Ara's sake they were trying.

"Sit," Ginny told him leading him and Harry into the living room and pointing to the sofa, "And drink it."

Draco held the vial to his nose, inhaling the scent and nodding. He swigged it down and waited the few seconds it took to take hold, "Not bad Weasley,"

Ginny shook her head, "No, not mine. That's all Hermione."

"Fuck." Draco shuddered as his head cleared and he realised what he'd done. He looked between Harry and Ginny, "I royally fucked up, yeah?"

Ginny nodded, "Yep. I'd agree with that."

"What were you thinking?" Harry asked, "She's told you over and over that she wants nothing from you."

Draco rubbed his hands across his face and exhaled a long, shaky breath, "I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me. I panicked. She looks just like me and if someone saw her and...fuck! I had to tell them."

"By someone seeing her, do you mean your mother? Or your wife?" Ginny asked.

Draco nodded, "And now they both know and..." He sighed, "My mother is barely speaking to me. And that vindictive bitch of course went straight to the gossip mongers to tell her sob story."

"What about Scorpius?" Ginny asked.

"She doesn't want him," Draco rolled his eyes, "He's contaminated."

"Excuse me?" Harry looked bewildered, "What the hell does that mean?"

"I had sex with a mudblood," he winced at the word, hating it, "So apparently that means my pureblood son isn't pureblood at all." Harry and Ginny looked at each other and Draco huffed out a laugh, "Yeah, and if you can figure that out, you're smarter than me."

Draco scrubbed his hands across his face again. These were the last two people he wanted to be talking about this with, he hated the pair of them, but so far they had been the only ones to actually listen to him. "What the hell have I done?"

"What you thought was right," Harry said. "Look, Malfoy, we're not friends, but I have to tell you that I know that she loved you, back in school, she did. And I know that because she wouldn't have...ah...slept with you, if she hadn't. But you have to see this from her point of view. She was terrified that you would have somehow found out about Ara and taken her away, and now all the people she was terrified of, know that you and her have a child together and with Ara at school she can't protect her and she's terrified all over again."

Draco closed his eyes. _Shit._ These two were right. He _was_ a complete twat. This wasn't Hermione's fault; he had been just as responsible as she had been. But while he'd been living his life, she had borne the full responsibility of raising their child on her own and all just to protect him. "So you don't think I should have told them? I should have kept her a secret?"

Harry shook his head, "No, you definitely should have told them, regardless of what she says," He nodded towards the stairs that Hermione had stormed up, "It was the right thing to do, but you can't come here ranting at her when she only did what she thought was right."

"And you need to talk to her, really talk to her." Ginny said, "You need to tell her how you feel."

"What?" Draco stared back at her.

"How long have you been in love with her for?" Ginny smiled at him.

Draco startled at her question, but slumped his shoulders in defeat at the look on Ginny's face. "Longer than either of you could imagine."

"Draco," Ginny reached over and touched his arm, "When you asked me to speak with you all those years ago, I knew you were completely in love with her, and I hated that I couldn't tell you the truth. And I know you still are in love with her, and you need to tell her because if you don't, you'll lose her again."

* * *

Draco slowly climbed the stairs, Ginny's words ringing in his ears. _You'll lose her again._ But he couldn't lose her again. Just to be near her, to be able to see her and talk with her and if that was all she was willing to give him, even if she wanted nothing more than to associate with him because of their child, he would take it.

Every minute, every second, he was away from her he missed her. He'd managed over the years to remember her as only an amazing time in his life that he would always cherish, but since the day he had run into her again he wanted nothing more than to be back in her life.

"Hermione?" He called when he reached the top floor. He'd not been beyond the first floor of the house and stopped in an open sitting room that he assumed separated their bedrooms.

She emerged from a room halfway down the hall; her face was scrubbed clean of make-up and her hair was down, the ends brushing against her shoulders. She had changed into pyjamas, obviously thinking her night had ended. Her legs were almost bare, just the hem of her sleep shorts could be seen high up on her thighs, and a long-sleeved button-down top matched the tiny shorts.

"I thought I told you to leave," she snapped, "Clearly you haven't changed, you still don't listen to anyone."

"I'm sorry," He said, "I didn't mean to take this out on you."

She laughed an incredulous laugh, "And yet you did. I'm not the cause of _all_ your problems Malfoy, you don't get to blame me for everything that goes wrong in your life."

Draco's jaw clenched at her use of 'Malfoy.' he'd been Draco for so long with her that it was a clear sign that she was pissed. He'd come up the stairs thinking that they could talk this through, but she wasn't going to make it easy on him. "And you're right, I shouldn't have come here like I did."

"So why did you?"

"I honestly don't know," he said, but he knew that it was mostly just to see her. "I just walked away from the pub and ended up here."

Hermione rubbed her hand across her forehead, "I should have moved to France and sent her to Beauxbatons. None of this would have happened if I'd have done that."

"Oh, and that would have been perfect wouldn't it _Granger_?" Draco sneered, his temper flaring at the thought. She had every right to be pissed at him for acting how he had; turning up drunk and hollering for her, but she would not treat him with the distain that she was when she had hidden his daughter from him for so long. "You could have kept me out of her life for good, not just the first eleven years."

"Excuse me?" Hermione began but Draco cut her off.

"I get that you're pissed at me," Draco's voice had risen. He was trying to keep his anger in check, and failing. "But you're not blameless in all of this, Granger. You trusted me enough to not tell a soul when it came to us fucking each other, but you never even gave me the chance to make any decisions when it came to our child; you just assumed the worst of me and disappeared."

"You cannot be this fucking stupid!" Hermione shouted, "You know why I had to leave!"

"No actually, I don't." he shouted back, "You keep saying it was to protect her, but you never gave _me_ the chance to be the one to protect her, or to protect you. Did you even once think that I would have wanted to be a part of all of this? That I might have wanted to be her father? That I might have wanted to be with you? No, you just decided what was best for you and you didn't give a shit about me!"

"Oh, and you really would have had time to be a father?" Hermione snarked, "From everything I hear, she would have just gotten in the way of your many thousands of conquests."

"Yeah, that's exactly right," his lip curled into a sneer, "I fucked every girl, every woman, who threw themselves at me just to rid myself of you!"

Hermione felt tears stinging at her eyes and her chest constricted as if he'd physically hit her. She hadn't expected him to admit that what she had heard about him was true, and if his aim had been to hurt her then he'd succeeded. He'd already succeeded in ruining her for any other men, this just topped it off. She'd accepted that he wouldn't be pining for her, that he would no doubt move on without the knowledge of his daughters' existence, but to have him admit that he'd fucked his way through the female population of Hogwarts and beyond had her heart shattering all over again.

She was taking deep breaths, trying to control the emotions surging through her. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She wouldn't allow him to see how much his words had stung.

He took a step forward, his eyes boring into her, and she took a corresponding step back and felt the wall behind her. "But do you know what? It didn't work. Every fucking time all I could think about was you."

He shoved her against the wall and his lips slammed against hers, and she was right back in the alleyway, sixteen years old and shocked to her core. Draco wrenched her top aside, ripping off the top two buttons. His mouth dropped hot, wet kisses to her throat, trailing further down to her collarbone and across the swell of her breasts.

Hermione gripped his hair and whimpered, a tiny gasp of _please_ escaped her into the space between them, and he yanked the remainder of her top aside. She heard the skittering of buttons across the floorboards, and couldn't find it in herself to care.

In a flurry, their clothes were removed, tossed haphazardly across the sitting room and she cried out when his fingers ghosted over her lace underwear, already damp with want. Her fingers dug into his arms and she arched into him, crying out again when his mouth found her nipple and his teeth bit down gently.

His hand found its way beneath her knickers, cupping her and stroking a finger through her centre, pressing down on her clit. She choked out his name, and Draco didn't think he had been as turned on as much as he was right then since the last time he had touched her.

"Draco," she whispered as his fingers dipped lower and found her opening.

He hummed against her throat, and sunk two fingers into her, pressing his thumb hard against her clit. Her head thumped forward and her teeth bit down into his shoulder as his fingers fucked hard into her.

She came almost instantly, when his fingers curled inside her, her voice a muffled wail against his shoulder as her release rippled around his fingers and her thighs clamped shut around his hand.

Draco gritted his teeth, his cock was rock hard, but he didn't want to fuck her against the wall. He knew she lived on this floor, so her bedroom had to be close.

"End of the hall," she panted as if reading his mind and he grinned.

He kissed her quickly and hoisted her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her down the hallway and through the last doorway. He kicked the door shut and dropped her to the bed, divesting her of her knickers, then shoving his boxer briefs down and dropping to his knees.

He ran his palms along the insides of her knees, spreading her legs, kissing the soft skin along the inside of her thigh and finally putting his mouth on her. He heard her gasp, and he gripped himself hard for fear that her tiny sound would push him over the edge. The memories of her flooded back; she was soft and wet and as responsive as hell.

He brushed his tongue across her in slow, firm strokes, groaning as he slid through her soft, warm slit and encountered her hardened clit. Hermione's hands gripped his hair tightly and her breath hitched, and she let out an unintelligible sound. He latched onto the small bud, sucking and licking, circling around and around, smiling at her tiny whimpers as he kissed her clit. She rocked against him, tiny pelvic thrusts against his mouth as his tongue worked over her.

"Draco," she whispered, her body writhing beneath his mouth.

Draco grinned against her heated flesh, knowing she was close. A few more swipes with his tongue across her sensitive nub had her thighs tensing against his cheeks; climaxing and crying out his name.

He lay his head on her belly, his hands reaching up to cover her breasts. She was spread beneath him, breathing hard; her body still shuddering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. He was so hard, his dick was almost screaming at him to crawl over her and fuck her senseless, but he couldn't move. Her taste was all over him, his mouth, his tongue, and her scent filled his nostrils.

She was the only woman he'd ever put his mouth on; the only woman he'd _wanted_ to put his mouth on. Astoria had expected him to, almost begged him to, but he had always refused. He hadn't wanted to lose the memory of Hermione, and after what he'd just done, he was glad of his refusal.

Her hand slipped through his hair and a small sigh sounded in the silence. He lifted his head when she tugged gently at his hair and watched as she pressed her hand to her stomach, a pink glow spreading across her skin. He was astounded; silent, wandless magic. She really was brilliant.

He crawled over her, kissing her hard and without hesitating, he plunged into her core. He paused as she cried out and peered up at him. He frowned at her. There was something in her eyes, something he couldn't place, a hint of pain coloured at the same time with relief.

She was tight around him, and he wondered how long it had been for her. And then the pained look in her face hit him in the head like a tonne of bricks. No, it wasn't possible. She surely had been with someone else. He couldn't possibly be the only one she'd ever been with. It had been twelve years, for fuck's sake, and any man out there would only have to look at her to instantly fall in love with her.

He cursed himself. The tears that had welled in her eyes at the harshness of his words made perfect sense. She hadn't been with anyone else. She had made good on her promise to always be his and he'd been a complete male whore, fucking every female that threw herself at him. He was disgusted with himself, and wanted to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness.

His need to fuck her hard had vanished and he moved slowly, feeling her tight walls slowly relax and let him in deeper with every thrust. When he was finally seated fully inside her, his pelvis pressed hard to her clit, he whispered her name.

"Hermione, look at me."

She opened her eyes and he smiled; the pain on her face when he first entered was gone and her eyes were completely glazed over in a pleasure filled haze.

"You're fucking amazing," he said quietly, "I've missed every part of you."

He kissed her deeply, lowering himself over her, his breath shaky, completely overwhelmed by the thought that she'd not been with another man, ever. He had been so possessive of her all those years ago, had wanted to be her one and only, and when she disappeared, he no longer thought it possible. But she'd kept her word, whether it was deliberate or unconscious or for another reason all together, he was thunderstruck. Why the hell did she wait for him?

He slapped himself internally, cursing his ego. She hadn't necessarily waited for him. Her reasons for not having had sex for years may have had nothing to do with him.

"Draco," she murmured and he hummed against the side of her throat, " _Please_."

He began to move, his hips pivoting slowly and the sensation was breathtaking. She was exactly how he'd remembered – how he'd fantasised. She was all warm, silken heat and expanses of perfect, porcelain skin. Her breath was short and gasping, and his own breath hitched as she wrapped her thighs around his hips and surrounded his shoulders with her arms.

She moved with him; the rhythm easy, practised, as if they'd never been apart. And he was already embarrassingly close to the edge. He clenched his jaw, straining to hold on, and fisted the pillow near her head. The slick friction of his cock sliding in and out of her had her arching beneath him, her heels digging into his back. He moved faster, harder, unable to hold back, and he felt her stiffen beneath him. She was as close to the edge as he was; wound tightly and desperate for release. Her thighs splayed wider and she gripped his arse, her eyes screwing tightly shut, a loud cry of incoherent pleasure spilled from her.

Draco heard the sobbing gasp as her body shuddered, and unable to hold out any longer, his arse clenched and his entire body tensed; he hadn't felt a rush like this in a long time. He pressed his face hard against her neck, groaning her name as he came deep inside her.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. And in that few seconds before she was fully wake, nothing in her life was different, everything was the same. She still had a daughter, still lived at Harry's, and she certainly hadn't spent the night naked and sweaty and blissfully loose-limbed with the sullen, blonde piece of perfection, who made her breath hitch and her knees weak every time she thought about him.

And then she woke fully.

And then she remembered.

 _Shit,_ she thought and remained still, not wanting to alert the body next to that she was awake. Her heart began racing, and she clenched her jaw holding back the panic that was seeping in. Maybe she could just slip out of the bed. Surely after last night he would be hung over and not even be close to awake yet.

 _Sober up potion_ a small voice in her head reminded her and she silently cursed herself again. _What the fuck was she thinking? Why had she fallen so easily into bed with him?_

She shifted her hips but instantly stopped, wincing as a shot of pain ran through her. The way he had fucked her – over her, under her, behind her – had worked muscles that hadn't seen any action in a long time. She blushed. She'd practically been a virgin again and she wondered if he'd noticed. He was the only man she'd ever been with, the only man she had ever wanted to be with, and here he was again, making her feel like the smitten teenager she was all those years ago.

But she wasn't a smitten teenager. She was a sensible, level-headed woman, who would never have fallen into bed with him it hadn't been so long.

 _Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!_

"Stop freaking out, Granger." The sleep-addled voice from the body behind her said.

She didn't move. Instead she closed her eyes and breathed slow, deep breaths, feigning sleep.

He chuckled, "You'll not ever win an acting award."

She felt him move, shifting to spoon her, and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her when his lips gently touched her shoulder.

"Draco," she murmured, "We shouldn't have..."

"Shouldn't have what?" He kissed her again, his lips moving slowly along her neck, and _Merlin help her;_ she shifted her head to allow him better access. "Shouldn't have shagged like horny teenagers? Shouldn't have had the best sex either of us has had in years?"

 _Hmm_ she hummed, unable to disagree with him. His lips felt like magic, and _oh fuck,_ another piece of 'magic' was pressing into her arse.

"But we're so good at it," he whispered against her ear causing a shiver to run down her spine, "You and me Granger, we always were. And it felt like no one else has touched you."

Her eyes flew open, _shit_ , _he knew._

She twisted her neck to look at him, and cursed herself silently again. The scruffy, morning, I-spent-the-night-fucking-Hermione version of Draco looked even hotter than the beautifully put together version. He was grinning down at her. No, not grinning; smirking would be more apt. And she narrowed her eyes at him, "Why would you think _that_?"

"Because of the way you reacted to me," he kissed her shoulder again and lowered his voice, "You're so tight Granger, and it was like _no one_ else has been there. Only me."

"Were you always this arrogant?" She sneered.

"You know I was," his hand splayed across her navel, pulling her harder against him and she clenched her jaw, biting down on the moan that surely would have been embarrassing. "It was what you loved most about me. It was why you were drawn to me. I was - am - nothing like those two imbeciles you call friends."

She wanted to slap him, but the way he was grinding slowly against her had rendered her unable to do anything but move with him.

"You were far superior to them. To all of them. You were far superior to me."

She swallowed. His words were unexpected and felt like silk across her skin.

"And I'm an arse. You waited for me, and I was little more than a whore." His lips were back on her neck, kissing the sensitive skin behind her ear, his hips shifting and pressing his hard length against her, "But you're the only one I get this hard for. You're the only one I ever wanted to be inside of. I only ever wanted to feel _your_ pussy on my cock. I only ever wanted to come inside you."

Hermione gasped at his words, but found she was far too turned on to be horrified. She wasn't a prude - she had an eleven year old daughter and she wasn't yet thirty after all - but she also wasn't used to the language Draco was using.

But if she was being honest, she wasn't averse to it at all. Quite the opposite actually.

"I love that you waited for me," His voice had lowered again and his hand slipping further down her navel had her shaking. His mouth was on her shoulder again, his teeth gently scraping across her flesh, "You did you wait for me, didn't you Hermione?"

She groaned at the use of her name, and stammered "N-no."

"Oh, I think you did." He chuckled against her shoulder and teased, "You only wanted me inside you, didn't you? No other man would be good enough."

"Y-you're a-an arse, Mal..foy" her voice stuttered as his fingers lightly traced her clit. She pressed into him, her hand reaching back, grasping at his hip. It was the truth. She hadn't wanted to be with anyone else, had resigned herself to the fact that her sexual escapades would only involve her own hand and her trusty companion that lived in her nightstand.

" _Mmm_ ," he hummed against her neck, "You've been telling me that for years. And yet-" he grunted as her fingernails dug into his arse, as if to emphasise her words. He dug his own fingers into her thigh, lifting her leg over his hip and shifting so the head of his cock was resting against her soaked entrance.

"Draco," she whispered and reached down to put him inside her.

"Hermione," he whispered covering her hand with his.

She looked back at him and his mouth descended on hers. Kissing her in that way she remembered. Possessive. Sure. But completely giving himself over to her at the same time. They moaned quietly as he pushed into her, his hand gliding up to her stomach, pulling her against him, her back pressed firmly against his chest.

"Do you feel that?" he groaned, "Do you feel how perfect you are around me?"

Hermione didn't respond, couldn't respond. But he was right. He felt amazing inside her. He filled her perfectly, stretching her in the most delicious way that had her wanting more and more of him.

He began to move, thrusting slowly – he knew she'd be sore from the previous night's action - pulling all the way out and sliding torturously back in. "Can you feel that?" he asked again as his hand returned to the place between her thighs where she was soaked and swollen and aching for his touch. His breath was hot against her neck, as he murmured in her ear – how beautiful she was; how wet she was; how good she felt; how he loved the breathless sound she made just before she came.

 _Oh god! He'd made her come...how many times?_ She'd lost count. And he was about to do it again, possibly several times. He appeared to be an expert at it.

He continued talking, murmuring sweet, filthy words against her ear, and she found herself not wanting it to end. His voice in her ear, his breath hot against her skin, the feel of him inside her, she couldn't help but imagine this every morning, every night, and she didn't want him to stop. She'd apparently said it out loud, because his answering, _I won't ever stop,_ sent a shiver down her spine.

And then a loud knock at her door broke her reverie.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" Ginny's voice sounded through the heavy timber.

She gripped Draco's hip, wanting him to stop, but he didn't. He kept plunging slowly into her. "Yes." She managed to say in an even voice.

"Um, we're just going to get James and Albus."

Ginny would have normally just barged in, not caring what state of dress or undress Hermione was in. She surmised that she had seen Hermione naked in the shower all those years ago at Hogwarts, so she had nothing to hide. Hermione closed her eyes; Ginny knew Draco was in her bed. She would have known as soon as she came up the stairs and seen their clothes strewn across the living area.

Hermione gasped quietly as Draco continued to plunge into her, "Give me a minute." She called back, hoping Ginny didn't recognise the pleasure in her voice and realise what they were doing. She had planned to go with them, but she truly did not want to get out of her bed.

"That's okay," Ginny called back, "We'll have lunch with mum and dad and then do some shopping. We'll back around three."

Draco snorted a laugh, and thrust into her again, "She knows I'm here."

"Of course she does, our fucking clothes are still out there." Hermione hissed, "But it doesn't mean we have to put on a show."

"Morning Ginny," He called out and Hermione froze.

"Good morning Draco," Ginny called back and Hermione heard the amusement in her voice, "See you when we get back."

"I'll be here," Draco called out as if he wasn't currently buried inside her.

Hermione pulled away from him, stifling a groan as he slid out of her. She rolled to face him and slapped his chest.

" _Oww_ ," he yelped, "What was that for?"

"You're an arse."

"You already said that," Draco rubbed at his chest, "And Ginny didn't care that I stayed the night. And I don't remember any protests from you either." He pulled her to him, but she put her hands on his chest stopping him.

She slipped out of the bed, ignoring the uncomfortable ache between her thighs.

"Hermione, what..?"

She looked down at him, "You're married Draco. Married." He sat up and reached for her but she backed away. "I can't-" she shook her head and disappeared into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Draco scrubbed his hands across his face and let out a frustrated huff of air. She was right, but she wasn't going to hide from him. Not this time. She was going to talk to him; she was going to tell him exactly how she felt. He crossed the room, hearing the shower turn on, and he opened the bathroom door just as she was stepping under the water.

"Hermione?"

She yelped in surprise and turned to face him and he couldn't help but notice her eyes flick quickly down. He was still hard, his cock standing straight out from his body. He stepped under the water with her and cupped her jaw, lifting her gaze back to his face, "I'm not married. She left, and she won't be coming back. Ever."

Hermione pulled his hand from her face and held it up to him, "And this means what exactly?"

He looked at the gold band on his finger, the gold band that was making a mockery of what he was saying; the gold band he still hadn't taken off; the gold band he hadn't even had the decency to remove while he spent the night in bed with her, and he cursed under his breath. He slid the ring from his finger, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before tossing it across the room towards the waste basket in the corner. It made a clinking sound as it hit the side and bounced off.

"Seeker, not a chaser." He said.

"Draco," Hermione chided, "Be serious."

He cupped her jaw again, "Listen to me. As far as I'm concerned, I am no longer married. Legally I might be, but the second she walked out, my sham of a marriage was over. I never loved her; I married her only because it was what was expected of me. I should have said no and walked away from her, but I had no idea where you were. But I guess I should have looked harder. I should have known you would have been here. And nothing has changed Hermione. When I said I loved you all those years ago, I meant it. And I still mean it."

Hermione stared back at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She had loved him for so long now, but thought that they could never be anything so she had put aside any hopes that she would actually hear the words from him again. And she wasn't sure that the moment could be any more intimate; both were naked, completely exposed and raw, unable to hide.

"Draco I don't know if I can do this. I can't be what everyone thinks I am," Draco frowned at her and she clarified, "I can't be the other woman, I can't be the one who broke up your marriage."

"And you're not." He dropped his hands to her shoulders and squeezed them gently, "What happened between us happened long before I was married, and last night happened _after_ my marriage was over."

"No one will believe it."

Draco crouched down so his eyes were level with hers, "Listen to me. No one will think that, because we can hide this from everyone until she's gone for good. I don't want to cause you any more stress than I already have, so you can decide when this is something you're ready to share. Okay?"

"Okay," she said after a few beats.

"And I'm sorry I was so crass," he gave her a guilty smile, "You've not been with anyone else, and you were right, I was being an arse about it."

"Pansy said it nearly killed you when I left," Hermione took a breath, "It was the same for me when you got married."

"Pansy? Parkinson?" Draco looked at her perplexed when she nodded, "I wasn't aware that you two were friends."

"We've just recently become friends. She ran into me just after Astoria told the world about us, and she told me a few things," she smiled at him, "And we've been catching up since."

"I should have looked harder for you, I'm sorry I didn't," he kissed her forehead, "I was angry and hurt, and scared out of my mind as to what had happened to you. And I couldn't ask your lot. Pansy was the only one I could talk to."

She touched his cheek, "I don't care that that she knew. But as hard as it was for you, it was the same for me. I've told you my reasons for leaving, and I don't want to keep going over it. I did it with only her in mind. I didn't do it to hurt you." She reached her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, and whispered, "I waited for you."

Draco wrapped his own arms around her and pulled her harder against him, "I'm sorry I didn't do the same."

"Can we do this?" Hermione said against his shoulder, "Can we do what we should have done all those years ago? Can we be us?"

Draco pulled back slightly and looked down at her. The girl he once loved had now become the woman he did love and couldn't live without. Rumours and gossip and Astoria be damned. "I have loved you from the moment you stepped into the Great Hall on Krum's arm. I have loved you since the first time I made love to you."

All the tension left Hermione's face and was replaced with relief. She pressed up onto her toes and touched her forehead to his, "I'm so sorry Draco. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."

His hand slipped to her belly, "I love that out daughter grew in here, I love that you protected her and that you kept her safe and I will never hate you for doing what was best for her. And I want nothing more than to be with you, and only you."

"Us?" she asked quietly, as if needing him to reassure her that was exactly what he had meant.

"Us," He nodded. He cupped her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth and then smiled at her. "Now, we have several hours to fill before Ginny and Harry are back, and I think we should use that time wisely."

Hermione smiled back at him, "And I would love to agree. But you have a son, and I'm sure Amelie is wondering where you are."

"Shit," He swore and kissed her quickly before stepping out from under the water, "I'll be back as soon as I get him."

"Good," Hermione smiled, "I've missed seeing him."

Draco paused in drying himself and arched an eyebrow at her, "You've only missed him?"

Hermione smirked, "I think I proved beyond any doubt how much I've missed you."

Draco leaned back under the water and kissed her, "Yeah, you did."

Hermione blushed and shoved playfully at his chest, "Go. Get your son." He kissed her again and she sighed, watching him as he smiled back over his shoulder and disappeared out of the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione awoke to see Draco's head between her legs.

It was a sight that was becoming routine, and she wasn't sure how she had ever lived without it.

He and Scorpius had all but moved in. Scorpius' crib had been placed in the small sitting room that separated hers and Ara's bedrooms. It was the room that she usually spent all her time in, curled up on the oversized couch with a book; a room that had seen very little use over the past week.

She had been slightly on edge the first few nights they had stayed. Ara had been a dreadful sleeper; Hermione had surmised that her daughter had been far too busy to sleep any more than just a few hours at a time. Ginny had been correct in her prediction that Ara would be reading books when she was just a month old - not exactly reading herself, but having someone reading to her being the only thing that had calmed her.

So Hermione had spent those first few nights half awake, just waiting for the wake up calls she had been accustomed to when Ara was at the same age.

But Scorpius was the complete opposite; he slept like the dead. Once his eyes were shut, that was it. He didn't wake until the morning, and on occasion he didn't wake until well after they were both ready and almost heading out the door for work. It had been a nice change from what she had thought was the norm.

She let out a breathy sigh, and slid her fingers through his hair, whispering "Good morning."

He paused and smiled up at her, a smile so sinful it should have been illegal, "How'd you sleep?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid. Something kept me up all night."

Draco bit gently at the inside of her thigh, "Hmm, how awful for you."

"Can you make me feel better?"

He dropped his head back down, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips closed around her clit. She thumped her head back to the pillow, "Shit," she swore and then groaned.

She had never craved anything so much in her life. She knew that she had missed him but she hadn't realised just how much until he had shoved her against the wall the previous weekend.

She was surprised she had made it through the week intact; her head had been filled with him constantly. So much so that Annie, her co-worker at the bookshop, had grinned at her and asked who exactly it was that had put the dreamy look on her face. She had blushed and told her _nobody_ , but Annie had simply laughed and replied, _yeah, right._

And she was sure she had the same look on her face right at that moment. Draco's tongue was sliding gently up and down over her in way that she was sure would crave for the remainder of her days. She was still half asleep and completely spent from the previous night, but this was a wakeup call she certainly didn't mind.

She sighed again. She was drowning in a warmth that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew the past week had been far from the realities of real life, but the realisation that they could be what they had both wanted, what they had both wished for felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her heart.

And the selfish pocket of her heart told her that it was long overdue. She had told herself for so long that she didn't deserve him after what she had done, but now she knew that wasn't true. She _did_ deserve him, and she certainly deserved the blissful feeling of the current task his mouth was performing.

She was already close; her heart beating fast, her insides throbbing. And before she could think little more than how fucking good he felt, she came with a gasp.

He crawled over her, pressing their bodies flush and kissing her. Her body felt boneless; utterly spent and pliable, and completely content. She could feel how turned on he was, how aroused having his mouth on her had made him. But he didn't shift his hips off her, didn't slide that heavy arousal into her. Instead he circled her head with his arms and stared down at her.

"You're the only one." He whispered.

She smiled up at him, "So are you."

He returned her smile, "No. You're the only one I've ever done _that_ to."

Hermione's smile dropped away in shock. "What?"

"I have been with other women, but not once did I ever put my mouth on them. Not once. I only ever wanted that with you."

Not actually sure exactly how to respond, she blurted, "But you're so good at it."

He huffed a laugh, "Thank you."

"Draco, I don't understand why you've never...why not?"

He shifted off her, rolling to his back and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, "I thought you'd be grateful."

Hermione closed her own eyes, realising her mistake. He had wanted her to know that she had always been on his mind, that he had always wanted her, always loved her. And it was his way of keeping one small part of her for himself. She pushed up onto one elbow and pressed her hand to his stomach, "Sorry, I am. I just...I'm a little shocked, that's all."

He didn't move, his hands still covering his eyes. She watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she waited for him to sort out exactly what he was thinking. Several minutes passed and she actually wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Draco?"

He sighed and moved his hands to his forehead, "I never wanted to put my mouth on another woman because I was scared I would lose the last thing I held on to from you." He turned his head to look at her, "I held on to you from the second you left until now, I never let you go."

Hermione took his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingers, "Sorry. I ruined this, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't. I just wanted you to know."

She saw the frustration in his eyes, "Draco. Don't placate me, and don't forgive me so easily. This is important to you, and I ruined it. Don't brush it aside, be honest with me and tell me if you're mad."

He rolled to his side and she mirrored his pose, " _Can_ I be honest?" Hermione nodded, and he continued, "I was spoiled and I always got my way. I was given everything that I wanted and no one dared to say no to me. No one had ever treated me the way you did; simply leaving with no explanation. And I hated you for it."

Draco reached out and took her hand, kissing her palm, "But I couldn't bear to lose everything. So I held onto that one thing that was only you. I let go of the hatred after what happened that night in The Manor. I looked for you after you defended Lucius and my mother at their trial, but obviously I didn't find you. And it took all of that for me to realise that no matter what had happened to you, or why it was that you left, I still loved you." He sighed, "I wished it had been you that I married; I wish that Scorpius was ours. I wish we hadn't lost twelve years."

Hermione's voice was barely a whisper, "And that's all my fault."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Hermione had wished the exact same. She had held onto the simple brush of his fingertips on the last day of the Battle of Hogwarts. The look of terror in his eyes had been more than her heart could bear. She had wanted to stop him, to tell him to stay by her side, that he had a daughter and she needed him. But it was just one more impossibility in a long line of impossibilities.

Her heart had shattered when she learned he was engaged, and had shattered all over again when he was married. But no matter how much Ginny had tried to protect her from it, she had no one to blame bar herself. She had hidden from him, not the other way around. She had always assumed that he had forgotten about her, had returned to the hatred he had of her when they were eleven. And to now know that he had felt the same as she had for so long put the heavy weight back in her heart.

"Thank you," she whispered into the silence. She shifted closer to him and pressed her forehead to his, "I love you even more for this."

Draco traced her jaw with his fingertip, "I guess we've still got some shit to work out,"

Hermione exhaled a small laugh, "Yeah, we do. Draco, can we make a promise right now?"

"What's that?"

"That we'll never lie to each other again." She shrugged, "Well, mostly me on the lying, but please promise me that if I piss you off, you'll tell me?"

"I promise." He kissed her forehead, "And you'll do the same?"

She nodded, "I am sorry-"

He pressed his finger to her lips, "No more sorrys. You've apologised enough, and we can't change what happened. Lets agree to leave it in the past and move on."

"Forward only," Hermione said with a smile.

"Forward only," Draco agreed. He looped her hair behind her ear, "Tell me about her."

"About Ara?"

Draco nodded and Hermione smiled. He'd had spent as much time as he could with her before she had left for school, but he hadn't yet asked Hermione about her as a child. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about the day she was born." Draco said.

"Oh, geez," Hermione laughed, "I was the size of a small house. And I was tired and cranky and hated you."

"Me?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Yeah. I'd been awake for hours because I was so uncomfortable, and I was cursing you and your stupid penis." She laughed when he reached down between them and covered himself.

"What the hell did he do to deserve your wrath?" Draco arched an eyebrow at her, "He gave you nothing but pleasure."

"That's true, but I still hated you." Hermione leaned in and kissed him, "It was about three in the morning when I realised that the stomach cramps I thought I had were actually contractions and I was in full labour. Mum was more panicked than I was," She laughed at the memory.

"Your mother was there?" Draco asked and Hermione nodded, "Good. I thought you might have been on your own."

"No. She was with me. And I think she might have hated me just a little bit," Hermione laughed at the frown on his face, "When I was born, mum was in labour for almost twenty hours. Ara was born in just three."

"Three hours?" Draco face held a mixture of awe and shock.

"Yeah, she's been in a hurry her entire life." Hermione nodded, "She was born screaming, and I wished that you could have been there to see her. The doctor put her on my chest and all I could see was you."

"Sorry about that," He told her with a grin.

"Yeah, you don't look sorry." Hermione said, knowing full well he loved that Ara looked like him. "She was so placid and calm for about the first month and then she turned into the devil child. And I survived on about five hours of broken sleep a day."

Draco grimaced, "Five hours? Maybe I'm glad I wasn't around. I can't imagine that was pleasant."

"I didn't know anything different," Hermione shrugged, "I assumed it was normal."

"And here I was thinking that Scorp was hard work." Draco shook his head, "You're more amazing than I thought."

"Oh, no. It wasn't all me. If it hadn't been for Molly, I would have been a puddle on the floor." Hermione closed her eyes, thinking just how true that was.

The blur that had been the first two weeks of Ara's life, were the most heart wrenching of hers. She knew that Sirius wanted her parents safely sent away, and she had begun to think that he wanted her to go with them. He had watched the baby closely, often muttering about her being a Malfoy, no matter what her name was, and that she would be too hard to hide. But when the time came to send her parents away, there was no mention of her or Ara going with them, and she wondered how much influence Harry had had over his uncle.

Hermione had insisted that she be the one to perform the _Obliviate_ charm, knowing that she would most like never see them again, and she had no desire to blame anyone for it other than herself. However, Sirius insisted he be the one to take them to their new home. And it wasn't until he returned that he told her that they were safe on the other side of the world, where no one would ever suspect them to be.

Molly had stepped into the place her mother had vacated, and had she not, Hermione knew for certain that her becoming a puddle on the floor was a huge understatement. Her parents being sent away, a looming war, and a newborn baby were not a combination of things that she had ever thought she would have to handle. But Molly had been there and had saved her from going insane.

"I assume it didn't last forever?" Draco asked.

"No, only the first year or so."

"Year!?" Draco shook his head in disbelief.

Hermione shrugged, "Like I said, I didn't know any different."

Draco frowned, "How _was_ it that you ended up in The Manor that night? You had a baby to take care of."

"You know me," She gave him a small smile, "I hated that Harry and Ron were out there alone, and I hated even more that she might grow up in a world that wouldn't accept her, and I had to help. So I left her here with Molly, and went and found them. And the rest you know."

"But you could have been killed."

"I know, but," Hermione sighed, "But I would have happily sacrificed my life if it meant that she was safe and could grow up without prejudice."

Draco kissed her, "You really have done everything with only her in mind, haven't you?"

"She's priority one. And always will be." Hermione said, "And I'm counting the days until she's home for Christmas. I feel a little lost without her."

Draco hummed in agreement, "I have noticed that it's much quieter without her here."

Hermione chuckled, "Yes, I have to agree. We often wonder why we taught her to speak."

As if on cue, a loud unintelligible yell, followed by a thump, came from the sitting room. Hermione instinctively threw the covers off and rolled to sit up. Draco touched her bare back with a warm hand.

"You don't have to do that," He said with a hint of a smile, "I can get him."

"Oh," Hermione laughed, "Sorry. I guess that instinct never leaves." She turned slightly to face him, "Stay there. I'll get him...if that's okay?"

Draco nodded and then looked her up and down when she stood, "Maybe throw on some clothes though."

She rolled her eyes and bent to retrieve her discarded sleep shorts and t-shirt, "It's only your fault I'm naked. This is not usual for me."

"I can't say I'm averse to the view."

She shook her head, but smiled, pulling her clothes on, "Put some pants on before I bring your son in here."

"In here?" Draco gave her a look of puzzlement.

"Oh," Hermione paused, "Do you not do that with him?"

"I haven't," Draco said and then shrugged, "But bring him in here. I'm up for something new."

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds before turning and heading for the sitting room.

Draco heard her say _good morning_ to his son, and then smiled at Scorpius' cry of delight. He listened as she moved around the room, chatting to him, telling him that he looked just like his sister when she was little and hearing his son's giggles at what he assumed was Hermione's tickles.

He had watched her with his son over the past week and had found himself with a constant smile on his face. She hadn't hesitated in the slightest to take care of him, even going so far as to tell Amelie that since she would be home by 5 most nights, she could leave him in her care and have the evenings off. The nanny had been somewhat wary at first, but after only two days told Draco, with a wink, that Hermione should be Scorpius' mother.

He had simply nodded, not sure what to tell her. She had been a part of Scorpius' life since a month before he was even born. It should have set off alarms when Astoria insisted that they should start interviews for a nanny in her sixth month of pregnancy. And it was only until Scorpius was barely a few hours old Draco realised that Astoria had no plans to take care of him at all.

But here was Hermione, who hadn't hesitated to crawl out of bed on Sunday morning to get his son up.

"You have to say _good morning daddy_ ," Hermione was telling Scorpius as they returned to the bedroom, "Daddy. _Da-ddy_ "

"He won't say it," Draco told her, "I've been trying to brainwash him for weeks."

Hermione sat Scorpius on the bed beside Draco and crawled back in herself. Scorpius looked between them both and Draco grinned.

"Yeah, I know mate. It's a bit weird."

Hermione laughed, "I can't believe you haven't had him in your bed. Sunday's were always Ara's and my snuggle days."

"I know who I'd rather be snuggling with." Draco muttered.

Hermione covered Scorpius' ears and shot Draco a playful glare, "Hey now. No innuendo's in front of the baby."

Scorpius laughed and clapped his little hands, as if finally realising that this was okay. He scrambled over Draco and lay his head on Draco's chest, babbling excitedly.

"He's going to want to do this every morning now, you do realise that?" Draco told her as he hugged his son to his chest.

Hermione reached over and brushed Scorpius' hair from his face, "No, because we set rules." She said sweetly, "And Sunday is the only morning we do this."

Scorpius crawled over to her; laying down on her pillow and putting his hand on her cheek, his big blue eyes staring at her as if pleading with her that they do this every morning like his father was suggesting.

She kissed his tiny fingers and smiled at him, "Don't try those sweet moves on me, mister. Sunday's only."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing, thank you for your suggestions. THANK YOU!**


	15. Chapter 15

The station was crowded, more so than usual for this time of year. Even when Hermione was at school, the station was rarely so crowded at the Christmas break. Usually with the hustle and bustle that the Christmas madness brought, only one parent came to collect their children, and she found the crowd odd.

She looked around, wondering if she had missed something, if she had not been informed that something important was happening, or someone important was coming, and she noticed that it was not only parents that were here, but it looked like grandparents and younger siblings as well.

And then it dawned on her and she became enraged.

No one had yet seen Ara, no pictures of her had been printed, so this was the first time she would be seen outside of Hogwarts. They were all there simply to get a glimpse of her and it took everything she had to not hex them all.

Draco had wanted to come with her, and she was now grateful for her decision to refuse him. It was bad enough that they had all come to stare at her daughter, she didn't need to turn this into a full blown spectacle. Ara would have had to deal with enough rumour and gossip at school, without having her parents adding more fuel to the fire by showing up together to collect her.

Ara was still unaware of what was happening between them and they needed to tell her first, instead of having the entire wizarding world speculating that they were now a couple. And she didn't need the added pressure of an audience watching her parents greet her for the first time in almost four months.

Hermione stood fuming as she watched the train approach, ignoring the whispers and sidelong glances. Had she known this was what she was going to be subjected to she might have at least brought Harry or Ginny with her.

The scandal – or at least the perceived scandal – of the muggle and the pure-blood secretly seeing each other and then having a child had run its course after being in the gossip columns for weeks on end. She had been portrayed as the other women, the one who broke their marriage up. Draco was simply the bad guy, and Astoria had been made to look like the poor unfortunate soul whose husband had cheated on her.

They had done their best to not be seen together, not wanting to add any more speculation to the gossip that was already flying around. But a dinner one night with Harry and Ginny in muggle London, where they thought there would be no chance of being seen, proved them wrong. They had been spotted out together, pictures had been taken, and the story made the rounds again.

They had become accustomed to the pointed whispers and the accusations; _that's her,_ or _that's him, he's the one who..,_ or if they saw Draco with his son, _that poor child without its mother._ But the vitriol aimed at Hermione grew worse after the images of them together emerged.

But much to Hermione's surprise, and Draco's amusement, the divorce was finalised swiftly in just a few weeks. He'd laughed and told her he thought she was the smartest witch around, so how was it she had no idea of how quickly the process usually happened in wizarding society.

And of course, as Draco had predicted, the truth came out. And it had been the one time Hermione was grateful for his being a Slytherin. He had used all his cunning and resourcefulness to achieve his goal, and despite all the mudslinging, he had managed to come out clean.

Astoria had been unable to lie during their divorce proceedings; Draco had surprised her and insisted that in the pursuit of fairness for everyone, that a Legilimens be at the hearing, and the wizard had assured everyone in attendance that Astoria was in no way telling the truth about anything. Draco had not been unfaithful to her and Hermione had not been in any way involved in the break-up of their marriage. In fact, it had all been Astoria's doing when she refused to accept that Draco had a daughter long before she and Draco were married. And he had actually laughed loudly at the absurdity of her mothering act, and had sided with Draco, telling the hearing that she was not interested in the child in any way other than to use the child hurt its father.

Astoria's status as the poor woman who had been wronged changed dramatically and she instantly became the horrid woman who had abandoned her own child and left her husband for no real reason. There had hardly been any fight from her when it had come to Scorpius. Draco was given sole custody of him, and Astoria was told to stay well away, since she had no real interest in her son in any way.

And the gossip columnists – fearing lawsuits - had scrambled to ensure that they weren't the next target of Draco's rage. They had instantly changed their stories and painted Astoria in her true colours: the whoring, teenage tramp who had done well for herself by marrying a Malfoy; the woman who wasn't interested in her own child; the woman who had lied about Hermione and Draco's relationship, neglecting to mention that it had ended years ago and not, as she had told them, was what had broken her perfect marriage up.

She had all but disappeared and the last they knew was that she had moved with her family to France or Italy or...somewhere.

"Mum!" Ara called and pulled her from her thoughts.

She hadn't given a thought to her own parents when she was the one to head off to school and she now knew how they felt. She had missed her terribly, and the scandal surrounding them all had made it harder. But to see her smiling face made Hermione's heart leap.

"Hey baby!" Hermione said as Ara raced down the platform and engulfed her in a hug, "How was school?"

"Oh, it's amazing," She said excitedly, "It's in a castle mum, did you know that? And the stairs move and there are ghosts, and house elves look after us, and all the pictures talk, and The Fat Lady looks after our house, and she's so funny. And I'm in Gryffindor just like you were and we're second in the house cup, but if we beat Slytherin in the next Quidditch match we'll be on top.

"And potions class is in the dungeon, and Professor Snape's picture is on the wall, and everyone knows who he was and how brave he was, just like you said. And everyone knows who you are, mum. And they know Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron, and they even know who Draco is."

Hermione was almost laughing at her daughter's excitement, it was the exact same way she had greeted her parents that first Christmas she had arrived home. "Well, it sounds like you've had a busy couple of months."

"I have," she frowned and looked around, "Where's Draco?"

Hermione took her hand and walked towards the barrier amid the stares and open-mouthed gapes of everyone around them, "He's waiting at home with Scorpius."

"He didn't want to come?" Ara looked disappointed.

"He did baby, but I asked him not to," Hermione explained, "Everyone is looking at us already, and I didn't want this to be harder on you than it needed to be."

"He's just my father, it's no big deal." She looked around finally noticing the stares, "They're all just stupid."

Hermione snorted a laugh and looped her arm over her daughters' shoulders, "I think you're right."

* * *

"Draco!" Ara cried the instant she entered the living room.

Draco was waiting for her with Scorpius, who was currently sitting on Ginny's lap; he had become fascinated with her red hair and was staring wide-eyed at her. Harry was on the floor with Albus and James, and his smile as Ara raced through the door indicated that he had missed her just as much as Hermione had.

Draco stood and smiled, engulfing her and lifting her from the floor, "Welcome home. How was school?"

"I didn't get put in Slytherin," She told him as he placed her back on the floor, "Is that okay?"

"I know and it's fine," He assured her, "At least you're a Gryffindor, I like Gryffindors."

Ginny snorted a laugh, "Yeah, we quite often _hear_ just how much you like Gryffindors, whether we want to or not."

Hermione shot her a glare, but Ginny just grinned. Draco and Scorpius had been staying over more often than not, and Hermione had discovered that Draco and Ginny had some unspoken bond. And when she found out the reason for their unique friendship, she had been stunned. She could hardly believe that Draco had asked Ginny about her, and was even more astounded that Ginny had not ever told her about it.

"Jealous?" Draco asked.

"Hardly," Ginny replied and winked at Harry.

Harry shook his head at them both and stood, wrapping Ara in a hug, "We missed you chicken."

"Are they being gross?" Ara asked hugging him tightly back.

"They are, so don't listen to them," Harry said and smiled at her, "Now tell us about school."

Her face lit up, "Oh, Uncle Harry, it's amazing there. Did you know that everyone still knows who you are?"

"Do they now," He grinned at her, "I wonder why that is?"

Ara pointed at his forehead and grinned, "It's because of that stupid scar on your head."

Draco burst out laughing, "I've been telling him about that stupid scar for years."

Ara laughed. She'd heard the stories of how the adults now surrounding her never got along and had been highly amused by the fact that they were now slowly becoming friends. "My bed has curtains around it? All of them do. Did you know that? And Professor McGonagall said it's the same one mum slept in when she went there! And I share my room with three other girls, but there's heaps of room for us all. And we need a password to get inside out house. And my best friend is Charlotte and she didn't even know she was a witch!"

"I know how that feels," Hermione said.

"That's what I told her," Ara said, and then turned to Draco. "And Potions is my most favourite ever, and it's in the dungeon which isn't scary at all even though Uncle Ron said it was. And Aaron Bates is the Head Boy and he's in Gryffindor _and_ you were right Aunt Ginny, he really is awesome at Quidditch."

"Ooh, does he have lots of girls chasing after him?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Ara said and added quickly, "But he doesn't like any of them."

Harry and Ginny had been raving about the young Quidditch star for some time, and Ara had been well aware of just who he was, and that he was a Gryffindor, long before she had left for school. Ginny had teased Ara playfully before she left, telling her that she'd finally be able to meet the young man that she'd spent hours talking about with Harry, and who was fast becoming her idol.

"Do we need Uncle George to make that kissing potion?" Ginny asked pressing her fingers against her mouth to hide her grin.

"No," Ara said quickly, but her cheeks went pink.

Hermione hugged her daughter and kissed her temple, "We're just teasing baby, sorry."

"And don't listen to your Aunt Ginny; she was jealous of all the girls chasing Harry when he was at school and would have loved to have had a kissing potion." Draco told her and Ginny poked her tongue out at him. "Now finish telling us about school."

* * *

"Scorpius has been sleeping here?"

Hermione and Draco had discussed how they'd tell their daughter that her parents were actually now together, but they had forgotten about Scorpius' crib in the sitting room upstairs and their plans fell apart. Ara had of course, noticed it instantly, yelling down the stairs for them to both to come up there right away and had asked why it was there.

"Yes," Hermione said with a smile. Her heart was racing, not knowing how her daughter would react to the news. "Draco and Scorpius have both been staying over."

'Why?" Ara asked. "Did something happen at your house?"

Draco shook his head, "No. Well, yes, but…" he took a breath, "Your mum and I have been seeing each other while you've been at school and we decided that since we missed out on being together all those years ago that we'd start all over again."

Ara frowned, and looked back at the crib on the corner. "But how?" She asked with a concerned look on her face, "You're already married."

Draco took both her hands in his, "Not anymore. Scorpius' mother left and moved away."

"But why?"

"Did you hear any stories about your mum and me when you were at school?" Draco asked her and she nodded, "What did you hear?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall told the whole school that if anyone took any photos of me there would be trouble, and then some people were saying that mum and you shouldn't have been together when you were at school, but you were, and they said that you had me when you shouldn't have."

"You know that your mother and I aren't sorry we had you?" Draco asked quickly. Ara nodded and told him she knew and that Hermione told her that all the time. "Well, the thing is, Scorpius' mother thinks the same as those people and that's why she left. So now we're no longer married."

"She left because of me?"

"No, of course not," Draco assured her, but he glanced at Hermione, his eyes asking for help. Astoria _had_ left because of his daughter, but he didn't need her to know that.

"Baby, do you remember the stories I told you about why I couldn't tell you who your father was?"

Ara nodded, "Yeah. You said that you loved him very much but you could never be with him because he was a pure-blood and you were a muggle. And you said that even after the war it still didn't matter if you loved him, because he got married. "

"That's right," Hermione avoided Draco's gaze, knowing that he was smirking at the fact their daughter had revealed that she had never stopped loving him, "And even though the war ended a long time ago, some people still believe that Draco and I shouldn't have been together, and that we shouldn't be together. And the woman that Draco was married to still believes that as well."

Ara frowned, "But that's just stupid."

"It is," Hermione agreed, "And while _we_ know it's stupid, unfortunately sometimes people will never change and will always think that way."

"I'm sorry," Ara said and hugged Draco, "Are you alright?"

"I am. In fact I'm better than alright." He reached across and took Hermione's hand, "And if it's okay with you, Scorpius and I would love to be a family with you and your mum."

Ara tilted her head and steeled him with a serious glare, "Do you love her as much as she loves you?"

"I do," Draco said earnestly, "I might love her even more than she loves me."

"And you're going to live here with us?"

Draco looked at Hermione, who simply shrugged and smiled; she was enjoying the current interrogation her daughter was performing. "Well, Scorp and I haven't been staying every night, so we would have to talk to Harry and Ginny about it if we were to stay here permanently. It's their house after all."

"Are you going to marry her?"

"Well I can't say for sure," Draco grinned and winked at Hermione, "She'll have to ask me."

Ara looked at Hermione, who laughed and held her palms up, "I'm not asking him today!"

"And if you stay with us you'll be my dad?" Ara looked hopefully at him, "My really real dad?"

"Well, I'm already your dad," He smiled at her, "But yes; I'll be your really, real dad."

"Can I call you dad instead of Draco?"

Draco swallowed and slowly exhaled. His chest swelled at her question; he had hope she would call him dad from when they first met. He nodded, "Yes, I would like that very much."

Ara held her breath as if she could hardly believe this turn of events. She looked at Hermione, who smiled and nodded, "Is this okay baby?"

A huge grin split her face in two and she flung herself at Draco, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, "Yes!"

Draco smiled at Hermione over his daughter's shoulder, "I think she's pleased."

Hermione had voiced her concerns to Draco when they had discussed just how they would tell Ara that they were now seeing each other. She had hoped she'd be pleased, and while Ara completely loved Draco and she adored Scorpius, there was still a sliver of fear in her mind that Ara would displeased over Draco and Scorpius changing the dynamic of it just being the two of them, as it had been for so long.

But in that moment, Hermione's heart leapt into her throat and tears filled her eyes. Her daughter who had never known her father had accepted him with no hesitation. And Draco had done the same. He had become her father from the first second he saw her, not once questioning if she was actually his. She didn't think her heart could feel any fuller.

"Why are you crying?" Ara asked and Hermione smiled through her tears. Her daughter's arms were still wrapped around Draco's neck, the pair grinning at her with identical expressions on their faces.

She wiped at her eyes, "I'm not."

Draco reached over and squeezed her knee, "Yeah, you are."

Ara slipped her arms from Draco's neck to hug Hermione and whispered in her ear, "I'm glad you're happy mum."


	16. Chapter 16

"Draco!" Narcissa gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"I told you, did I not?"

Hermione had agreed to allow Narcissa to finally meet her granddaughter, but had refused to take her to The Manor, instead she insisted that if Narcissa wanted to meet her she would do so at Grimmauld Place. Ara, of course, had been excited when they told her and had been almost bouncing off the walls all that morning, waiting for her to arrive.

She'd had no grandparents in her life. Not really. Molly and Arthur claimed her as one of their own, but it wasn't the same. Hermione's parents were in Australia, their minds completely wiped of all knowledge of their daughter, granddaughter and their lives in England. So naturally Ara was delighted that she finally had a 'real' grandmother.

Hermione had explained that Narcissa might not be what she was expecting. She was nothing like Molly, who was warm and loving, and hugged and kissed her every time she saw her. Narcissa, she told her, might not want to do that and might even be reluctant to even smile at her. And it might be a long time before she did, if ever.

But Ara didn't seem bothered at all. She had told Hermione that if her grandmother didn't want to hug her that was fine since Narcissa didn't really know her yet. But Ara was sure that Narcissa would love her eventually.

And right now, Narcissa was looking at Ara with disbelief. The same look of disbelief that Hermione had received when she had picked her up from the station a week before Christmas. But standing beside Draco and Scorpius there was no mistaking who she belonged to.

Her daughter looked so much like Draco that she had expected the reaction, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Draco had told her that his mother still had some doubts about their daughter, still didn't believe that Draco had fathered her and still believed that Hermione had made it all up. So to see Narcissa's face as she looked at her granddaughter, Hermione allowed herself to be smug.

"Hello," Ara said with a smile, "It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa's eyes flicked to Hermione, who simply smiled. _Yes,_ she wanted to say, she _had_ raised her daughter to have manners.

"And it's lovely to meet you too," Narcissa replied, "Have you enjoyed Hogwarts?"

Ara nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, it's brilliant."

Scorpius whined, he was used to having his grandmother's attention all to himself, but she seemed to have forgotten him, she was so stunned at Ara. Draco tried to quiet him, but he whined louder, wriggling in Draco's arms and reaching out for Hermione. Draco leaned towards her and she took him, smiling at his cheeky grin at getting his own way. He squealed with delight and his little hands clutched at Hermione's shoulders as he burrowed into her. She rubbed circles across his back and blew a raspberry on his cheek, making him giggle.

Narcissa noticed the exchange, seeing her son's delight at how much this muggle woman clearly loved his own son. Draco had made his feelings on the matter of Hermione and his daughter perfectly clear; she would accept them or she wouldn't see either him or Scorpius again. So she had relented and asked to meet them both. "Draco tells me that you love Potions." Narcissa turned back to Ara and smiled at the girl, still dumbfounded at the resemblance.

"It's my most favourite. Mum says I've been making potions since I could pick up a spoon." She looked at Hermione who nodded in agreement and turned back to Narcissa, "Did you want to see my new cauldron that Dad and Scorpius got me for Christmas?"

"That would be lovely," Narcissa said looking surprised at her use of _Dad_ , and looking even more surprised when Ara reached out and took her hand.

"It's in the kitchen." Ara explained, "Mum won't let me have it in my bedroom."

"And who would have to clean up the mess if it was in your bedroom?" Hermione called as her daughter dragged Narcissa Malfoy down the hallway.

Draco had his fist pressed to his mouth, holding his laughter in. "Nothing bothers that child, does it?"

"No," Hermione said watching the pair disappear into the kitchen, "I think she might be the first person ever to not be terrified of your mother."

"Mum," Scorpius said surprising them both. He was smiling at Hermione with a toothy grin.

Hermione looked at Draco, her face a picture of shock. But Draco was grinning. He stepped closer and brushed his hand across his son's head.

"That's right Scorp," Draco's eyes never left Hermione's, "Mum."

"Draco, no." Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper, "I'm not-"

"He clearly thinks that you are and you're more his mother than she ever was," Draco said, "You're holding him, and that's more than she ever did. Now, we probably need to rescue _my_ mother from our daughter." He turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

Hermione looked at Scorpius, who was smiling at her. "Mum." He said again and she smiled back at him.

"Okay," She whispered hugging him, "You can call me mum. But how about we wait a while before you say it in front of your Grandmother?"

* * *

Much to both Draco's and Hermione's surprise, Narcissa was still sitting in the living room chatting happily with Ara; her granddaughter having completely won her over.

Harry and Ginny had arrived home, thinking that an hour would be ample time for the first meeting between the two, and had been equally surprise to find her still there. James had bounded into the room in his usual manner, smiling brightly at Narcissa, oblivious to whom she was, and joining in the conversation. Ginny had taken a sleeping Albus to his bedroom and had returned with a curious look on her face and Hermione knew there would be a long discussion to come.

"Things are going well then?" Harry asked quietly as Hermione stood. Scorpius had fallen asleep in her arms and she was headed for the stairs.

Hermione nodded quickly as she passed him, "Yeah. Surprisingly well."

"Don't worry, Mrs Malfoy." Ara said in an assuring tone that caused Hermione to turn around, "Mum looks after him all the time. Dad and Scorpius always stay here with us, and Scorp's baby crib is just upstairs, so he'll be fine."

Hermione kept her face impassive, but her eyes darted to Draco. She wasn't sure just how much he had told his mother in regards to their current living arrangements – if anything at all - but she had assumed that he had at least told her that they were together. And if he hadn't she certainly knew now.

Ginny sniggered, "Yeah. We never thought Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would be living under the same roof, did we?" She rubbed a gentle hand across Scorpius' back and winked at Hermione, "Take him upstairs, _mum_."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and mouthed _I hate you_ at Ginny who simply smiled back at her. Hermione should have known that Ginny would have been the one teaching Scorpius to call her _mum_. She headed up the stairs, her head spinning at the revelation her daughter had just dropped on her new grandmother.

She had only met Narcissa Malfoy twice previously. Once when her deranged sister was permanently scarring her, and once more when she gave evidence at the Wizengamot after the war. And regardless of how much compassion she had shown Harry all those years ago, the woman had terrified her.

Hermione knew that she had been watching Draco and her closely, and she also knew that there was a certain amount of disapproval in her face. But the facts remained; they had a daughter together, they were now seeing each other, and Draco trusted her to take care of his son.

She lay Scorpius in his crib and he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He smiled up at her and then dropped back into a deep sleep. She brushed her hand gently across his head, his soft blonde hair reminding her of Ara's at the same age. He had called her mum, and it had caught her totally off guard. And she certainly didn't need Narcissa to hear him say it yet.

She was all in with Draco, and she knew he was the same with her, but the added pressure of Narcissa Malfoy in all this was something she had never given a though to. She had never thought that she would be where she was now, with Draco in her life, Draco and his son, and their daughter. And the prospect of having Narcissa Malfoy as a mother-in-law (as it were) was something she had never considered possible.

But here she was, with Narcissa sitting in the living room with her granddaughter, seeming to be completely besotted with her. She looked down at Scorpius, wondering just how it was that he looked so much like his sister at the same age, and smiled. Regardless of what Narcissa thought, Hermione had everything she wanted. Ara, Draco and Scorpius; she needed nothing more.

* * *

"Ara," Hermione said when she re-entered the living room, "Can you go with Ginny and Harry please? Your dad and I would like to talk to Mrs Malfoy."

Ara looked at her, about to argue, but noted the look on her mother's face. She nodded, "Sure mum." She turned back to Narcissa, "I'll make sure I say goodbye before you leave."

Narcissa nodded and watched as Ara left the room, and Hermione found herself sympathising with the woman who once terrified her. He astonished look on Narcissa Malfoy's face was all too familiar to her, and she was seeing it more and more as Ara's existence had become known to everyone.

"I must congratulate you on raising such a fine young lady, Miss Granger. I've never known such manners at such a young age."

"Thank you," Hermione said with a small nod, "And please call me Hermione. I think we're well past the formalities."

Narcissa smiled, at least Hermione thought it was a smile. Her face looked pained, as if the expression was foreign. "My son has told me very little about her." She looked at Draco with an expression that was much more familiar; a curled lip, almost a sneer. "So you can imagine my shock."

Hermione turned to face Draco, who was looking at his mother and deliberately avoiding her gaze, "I'm sorry," she said, "I assumed he would have told you more."

"I've not seen him or my grandson in weeks, so that has been somewhat impossible."

Hermione held back her eye roll at the thinly veiled accusation that she had taken her son away from her. "Well, had I known, I would have encouraged him to bring Scorpius to visit with you."

An awkward silence fell over them. Hermione's eyes were trained on Draco, wondering why he hadn't told his mother more. She sighed heavily, and turned back to Narcissa.

"I am sorry that he hasn't told you more, I don't understand why-"

"There's a reason," Draco said. The look of delight that had been plastered on his face had disappeared and was replaced with an expression Hermione couldn't place.

She reached over and touched his arm, "Draco?"

His eyes never left his mother. "My mother doesn't know anything about her granddaughter because I'm sure that even as she's sitting here, she's wondering if you glamoured her to make her look like me." His hand slipped to Hermione's thigh, a little higher than was appropriate in front of his mother, but he didn't seem fazed. "In fact, I'm sure she won't believe that I was the one who started all of this, that I was the one who kissed you first, and that I was the one who declared my love for you first."

Hermione looked at Narcissa, whose expression was as unreadable as Draco's. Something had happened between the two, something Draco had not told her about.

"She doesn't believe any of it," Draco continued and finally turned to look at Hermione, "She still thinks you've somehow trapped me and that I should forgive my ex-wife and grovel at her feet to get her back."

Hermione felt goose bumps raise on her skin as her temper flared. Had this woman's delight at meeting her granddaughter been an act? She clenched her jaw and turned to face Narcissa, "Is that what you think?"

Narcissa didn't respond, instead she kept her eyes on Draco, "My son has not told me about his daughter because he thinks I don't realise how much he loves you," She turned to Hermione, "I did think that you made all of this up, and yes, I did think that you did this to trap him, but after today, I know that's not true."

Draco's hand tightened on her thigh, as if warning her to not fall for his mothers words.

"Miss Granger. Hermione. You have done an incredible job with her, she is polite and well mannered. And she is clearly very smart, but I have to say that I am disappointed that you hid her from us."

"I think that you're well aware of why I hid her." Hermione's face remained passive, she wasn't sure what had happened between the two and she had no idea which of them was being completely truthful. There were clearly some unresolved issues between then when it came to Astoria, but she found it hard to believe that Narcissa's reaction to Ara was an act. "You had very little tolerance for my kind when she was born, and I refused to subject her or myself to the humiliation that you would have put us through. I am sorry that I didn't seek Draco out sooner, but when he got married, I thought it impossible to tell him, and I'm sure that Astoria's reaction to Ara would not have been any different whenever she found out."

Narcissa's jaw clenched, and Hermione knew she had struck a nerve. Yes, there was definitely some conflict between them regarding Astoria. "Yes, you are correct. Had I known about you back then, I would have done everything in my power to stop this, but you have to believe me when I say that I hold no ill will towards you now."

Draco snorted, "Yeah, right."

"Excuse me?" Narcissa actually looked hurt.

"You supported Astoria through my divorce, mother," Draco shook his head at her, "Do you really think that I believe any of this?"

"I realise now that I was – am – wrong. Astoria certainly isn't who your father and I thought she was. And I am sorry that we insisted that you marry her."

Draco's eyebrows raised and he glanced at Hermione. She knew the look – this was news to him.

"And if Hermione makes you happy, as I can see that she does," Narcissa continued, "I will support your decision and hopefully we can all put our differences behind us."

"You can understand our hesitation, mother." Draco said, "Ara has clearly won you over, but you have a lot of work to do to show me and Hermione that you do actually feel the way you say you do."

"And I am aware of that." Narcissa smiled at Hermione, "And I would hope that you will give me the chance to do so."

Hermione looked between mother and son, and nodded, "I would like that. And I know that Ara would too. She's had no contact with my parents, and she would love to have her real grandmother in her life, as would I." She looked at Draco, "Are you okay with that?"

"This is your choice," He told her.

Hermione shook her head, "No. This is _our_ choice. If we're together, we have to be together in all the decisions when it comes to our daughter. And neither she nor I will be a pawn in whatever is going on between the pair of you."

Narcissa's eyebrow arched, and Hermione saw the look of admiration on her face. She assumed that it was because that so few people stood up to her son.

Draco also didn't miss the look, "I told you," He said to his mother, "She's exactly what you wanted for me. And I hope that if we allow you to be a part of our lives, and those of Ara and Scorpius, you will show her the same respect that I know she will show you."

"And that sounds perfectly fair," Narcissa agreed, "And I meant it Hermione; Ara is wonderful, and I do understand why you waited so long to tell us."

"Thank you," Hermione said, "I only did what I thought was best. And while she never knew Draco's name, she knew as much about him as I could safely tell her. He has been in her life, just not physically. And she's more like him than you could imagine."

"Oh, no. I saw it," Narcissa said, "But she's very much like you as well." She stood, "I apologise, but I do need to go. I hadn't imagined that I would stay this long, but she is quite captivating."

Hermione called for Ara, who came running down the long hallway. "Mrs Malfoy has to go, but I know she'd love to see you again when you're home at Easter."

Ara looked at Narcissa for confirmation and she nodded, "And I'd love to see you again too, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa took her hand, "And I think that you can call me Grandma, since that's who I am."

Ara looked to Hermione, "Is that okay mum?"

"Of course it is," Hermione told her, "Narcissa _is_ your grandmother, and if she say's its okay, then it is."

Ara's face lit up, "So I have a really, real grandma?"

Hermione nodded and looked at Narcissa and smiled, "You do."

* * *

"Are you alright?" Hermione appeared in the bathroom doorway and Draco smiled at her in the mirror, "You've been awfully quiet all night."

He nodded, "Yeah."

She stepped into the room and leaned her hip on the counter, "Are you sure?"

He cocked his head to the side, "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, "You haven't spoken to her in how long?"

Draco shrugged, "Since she found out about Ara. And I didn't want you to worry about her, about what she might have done."

"Draco, she's your mother," Hermione said gently, "And I know that it would have been hard for you to not talk to her." Hermione knew that while his father was something of a thorn in his side, Draco had nothing but love and respect for his mother. And she could hardly believe that he had not spoken to her in months.

He leaned his palms on the counter and dropped his head forward, "She took Astoria's side, Hermione. I hated her for that."

"I know," She rubbed her hand across his back, "But I'm certain she's now regretting that, and if she's true to her word, this might work out okay."

He looked up at her, "I'm still not sure that I believe her."

"We have to give her a chance," Hermione leaned in and kissed his shoulder, "It doesn't have to be perfect, it probably won't be, but if she can be civil, then so can I."

He smiled at her, but said nothing.

"Draco. You should talk to her. Don't let this come between you; don't let Astoria come between you." She touched his arm, "Take Scorpius and visit with her, work it out."

He turned to face her and it took everything she had to not lower her gaze and look down at him. He was wearing only a pair of tight fitting boxer briefs and even flaccid, his manhood made quite the impression.

He arched an eyebrow and smirked, "You can look, you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "How do you go from talking about your mother, to talking about your dick so easily?"

"Because I've spent enough time talking about my mother, and only time will tell if she's being truthful," He pulled her to him, "My dick, however...well, I never get tired of talking about it."

Hermione burst out laughing, "Oh god! You're still cheesy."

"Hmm," He hummed against her neck, sliding her camisole up her body and over her head, "Do you remember where your hands were the first time you said that to me?"

"No," she said innocently, "Maybe you should show me."

His eyes never left hers as he slowly took her hand and ran it down his torso, stopping just above the waistband of his boxers, "I think it was there."

"I was only sixteen, I don't really remember."

He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear, "Touch me Hermione, please."

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. They were the exact words he had used when she had touched him for the first time. She couldn't believe he remembered. She opened her eyes and found him smiling down at her, waiting for her, just like that first time.

She moved her hand, her palm sliding across his covered cock, feeling him react to her. He jerked his hips, and sucked in a breath when she dropped to her knees and dragged his briefs down his legs. Hermione watched as his cock hardened, growing thicker and longer, swelling and stretching to full prominence.

A small groan escaped him as she began to slowly stroke him over and over, pulling back his foreskin and fully revealing the tip. She tightened her grip on him, knowing that he liked it hard, and then surprised him by flicking her tongue across the already damp head. She lifted him and swept her tongue along his entire length, her lips placing tiny wet kisses on the soft skin of his ball sac.

He swore quietly and his eyes fixed on her mouth as it descended over him, her lips wrapping tightly around him, sliding slowly down his length taking him into her mouth as far as she could comfortably go. Her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, twisting and sliding in time with her mouth as she worked him over.

Draco gripped the counter and dropped his head back; a loud, almost embarrassing sound growled from his chest when his cock hit the back of her throat. She held him in her mouth and he swore again as her tongue slid around him before sliding slowly back, and she gasped for air.

"Hermione," he whispered, "Shit."

She smiled up at him and took him back into her mouth, sucking hard and rolling her tongue around the head. She reached up and took his balls in her hand, palming him gently, her fingers stroking the sensitive skin beneath his sac. His hips jerked and he gripped her hair, teetering on the edge.

"Mu-um!" came a yell from outside the bedroom door.

Draco's eyes went wide with alarm, and his hands dropped from her hair and shoved at her shoulders, "Fuck!"

Hermione slowly drew her mouth from him, her own eyes staring back up at him as if their daughter yelling from outside the door was nothing. She stood and kissed him, "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Draco watched as she wrapped her bathrobe around her and disappeared through the doorway. He was breathing hard, had been close to coming undone and had no idea how she was so calm. He heard Hermione ask Ara what was wrong, and then heard the bedroom door close and he let out a breath.

He looked down at himself, his dick was hard and red and about to burst. And he was sure if he took himself in his hand he would finish off in seconds, and he could climb into bed and pretend that they didn't almost get caught. He gripped himself, sliding over the swollen head, and after just a few strokes, he came all over his fingers.

He reached for a towel and cleaned himself up, leaning back on the counter, trying to catch his breath.

Hermione returned several minutes later, "Now where were we?"

Draco stopped her descent back to her knees, "Um, seriously?"

"Yes," she said slowly and looked down at his now flaccid cock. "Um, what happened here?"

His face flushed red, "Our daughter almost walked in on us. What if she was hurt and needed help, and I was just standing here and _couldn't_ help her because…" He indicated towards his groin,

"So you thought you'd solve the problem?" Hermione bit her lip, stifling her laugh.

"This is funny?" Draco held his palms up, "You're not concerned at all?" Once Scorpius was in his crib, he rarely woke until morning. Eleven year-olds were apparently a different story. Clearly this was something he would have to get used to.

"No, I'm not concerned. She's well aware of how she came about and finds it all gross and disgusting, and she's decided that she's never, ever coming in this room when you stay over just in case we're doing _that_."

She had talked with Ara shortly after she'd arrived home. Her daughter had had some questions after they had explained to her that they were now together, and those questions included sleeping arrangements. Hermione had simply explained that _yes_ , Draco would be sleeping in her bed, and _no,_ it would no longer be appropriate for Ara to simply barge in without knocking first.

"You mean, she knows..." he looked down between them, "Isn't she a little young to know that?"

"She does know. And I thought at the time she was too young, but she had lots of questions when Ginny got pregnant with Al, and after I explained the basics, she informed me that she'll never do that. Ever."

A hint of a smile curled at the corners of his mouth, "That's what every father wants to hear."

"She's just excited to be going back to school tomorrow. I doubt she'll sleep much at all tonight."

Draco sighed, "Well maybe we should wait until tomorrow night to continue this."

"And here I thought you were brave and nothing would stop you from getting what you wanted."

"No,' Draco said, "That sounds like a Gryffindor. Sly and cunning is what I am, and sly and cunning waits until the coast is clear."

Hermione laughed, "Fine. We'll wait. But I'm expecting a rather large reward for what I just did."

Draco winked at her, "If it's large you want, I've got you covered."

She slapped at his chest, "Cheesy."

He kissed her quickly, "You love it."

"Yeah. I do."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Once again, thank you for reading. And as always your reviews are much appreciated.**


	17. Chapter 17

"So, tell me about this girl." Narcissa said, "I assume that's why you're here."

Draco and Hermione had taken Ara to the station a week before, bidding her farewell amongst more stares and whispers, but none of them could have cared less. The truth was out, and if people didn't want to believe it, then that was their issue. Draco was simply ecstatic that he was there to send his daughter back to school; they could all whisper and stare all they wanted.

Ara had introduced them to her friend Charlotte, who was wide eyed in awe of both Hermione and Draco. Clearly the stories had reached her, and Draco had been sure that most of that awe was directed at Hermione; Ara having explained just how similar her friend was to her mother – both being muggles who had no idea that they were witches.

And his assumption was made even surer when Hermione suggested that her friend could come and visit with them over the summer, and Charlotte's face had lit up with delight, and Hermione had laughed when she had asked if it was really true that Harry Potter lived with them.

And Ara had also pointed out Aaron Bates, whispering to Draco that Harry and Ginny would hate him even more now that he'd seen him and they hadn't. He'd laughed and told her that he would definitely make sure that knew that he had seen him.

Scorpius had watched in wide-eyed silence as the steam poured from the train as it slowly pulled out of the station. Hermione had watched his little face with a wistful smile, his eyes not even blinking, and she had tickled his foot and told him that it would be his turn in no time.

And now he was crawling happily around the living room at The Manor; something Draco was sure he had never been allowed to do when he was a baby.

"Which girl are you referring to?" Draco had held off seeing his mother despite Hermione's encouragement to do so. He knew she'd been right, but he refused to admit that to her; he'd never hear the end of it, but he had swallowed his pride and decided to visit with her, and he hoped that she had been telling the truth when she said she would accept that he and Hermione were now together.

"Draco," Narcissa's tone was warning, "You know exactly who I mean."

He sighed, "What do you want me to tell you mother?"

"When did this start?"

" _Um_ , my daughter is eleven, as you well know, so we were sixteen." His implied _d-uh_ hung in the air.

"Draco!" Narcissa's voice raised in a frustrated cry. "If you only came here to be sullen and disrespectful, you can leave right now. I told you I want to get to know her, especially if this is something serious, so please tell me about her."

Draco nodded, suitably chastened, "We _were_ sixteen. But I had feelings for her long before then. But of course I couldn't do anything about it. I'm sure Lucius and yourself would not have appreciated it."

"And you're right," She admitted, "Had we known, your father may have gotten his way and sent you off to Durmstrang."

"It wouldn't have stopped me from seeing her," He said with no small amount of defiance, "Actually, it would have been perfect; I could have run off with her instead of not knowing where she was and I could have left all the other shit behind."

Narcissa pursed her lips and Draco knew he had hit a nerve. He knew that if he had disappeared when Hermione had, they wouldn't be having this conversation; both his parents would have been killed for being traitors and he would have been hunted down and killed as well.

His mother looked down at Scorpius, and he shook his head, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "And I'm well aware that I wouldn't have him if I hadn't married _her_. _She_ might be my biggest regret, be he certainly isn't."

He shook his head and then smiled at the memory of his encounter with Hermione in Diagon Alley. "And I didn't lie when I said it was all my doing. She had no idea how I felt." He shrugged, "She hated me. She stood up to me, called me several names that I won't repeat, and I kissed her. And it was then that I knew she was it for me. And I decided from that moment nothing would get in the way of me being with her. Not you or Lucius, not even the Dark Lord."

"I knew something was going on with you," Narcissa told him, "All those years ago I wondered just who it was that had changed you. I had hoped it was Sophie Roper or even Pansy, they were both more suitable."

Draco choked out a laugh, "Pansy? Really mother?"

"You were friends," She answered, "But your father had decided that Astoria would be a better match."

"No surprises there," Draco muttered, "Business deals and collusion are much more important than love."

"He only did what he thought was right," Narcissa said.

"No, mother, he only did what was best for him. He was never forced into marriage; he married you because he loved you. But I wasn't afforded the same privilege to choose who I loved." Draco's jaw clenched, "He's exactly where he deserves to be."

"Draco-"

He held up his hand and stated simply, "He is."

Narcissa stared at him for several long seconds and then sighed, "Please tell me about her."

"Mother, she is amazing. She always has been. She's smart and talented, and she loves Scorpius as much as she loves Ara. She has welcomed me back into her life, into their lives, without a second thought. And Harry and Ginny have too for that matter." He huffed out a laugh, "We're all living together in your family's former home, how's that for ironic?"

"It looks less like the house I remember it being," She told him, "It actually looks like a home now."

"It feels like a home," He nodded in agreement, "I love her, mother. I am _in_ love with her and I have been in love with her for so long I don't know how to not love her. I can be myself with her, she sees right through me if I'm not. But I can also speak my mind, without retribution." He smiled, realising how true his words were. Hermione had always called him out on his shit; she had punched him in the face, for Merlin's sake.

When she left without a word, it had near killed him, and he had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let his heart get broken ever again; it wasn't worth the misery. He knew that hearts got broken every day and that people recovered, but he had refused to allow anyone in and completely closed himself off to everyone.

But she never truly left him. And even though he had become exactly what his rumoured reputation had marked him as, she was the one who was always in his heart, even though his heart had turned to stone. He had hoped his feelings would go away, or at least grow less over time, but they never did.

And when he had seen her again with their daughter, the protective shell that he had surrounded his heart with had instantly melted and he knew that he would do whatever it took to have her back in his life.

And all of a sudden the risk of having his heart broken again mattered little to him. Because he had been sure that she had felt the same way. The look in her eyes when she turned to face him that day was almost too much to bear. She had looked heartbroken herself, despite her attempts to remain stoic.

He hadn't completely understood it at the time. And it wasn't until he learned that she'd not been with anyone else that the anguish on her face at him having a son – who she now loved and adored as if he was her own – and at his being married made sense.

And while he had been angry with her at hiding Ara from him, her reaction to him that day had a myriad of other questions filling his thoughts. What if she was still in love with him, just as he was with her? What if this could be what they had both wished for? What if they could be together and raise their children and be a family?

"She is...I don't know how to describe it." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I don't want to have to choose between you both, but I will not give her up mother, not again. The 'us-versus-them' mindset has to stop, pure-blood and muggle means nothing to me, and it should mean nothing to you either, and you have to stop thinking that she is beneath you."

Narcissa gave him a funny look but remained silent.

"She is everything to me. She loves my son, and she did everything she could to protect our daughter and keep her safe." He looked at his mother. He knew he was rambling, and hated that he felt like he was 'selling' Hermione to her, but his mother was the final hurdle, and he just couldn't see how he could change her mind about the woman that he loved.

But he didn't have to.

"You love her." Narcissa said. "And that's okay. Draco, I never realised just how tortured you were when you were with Astoria. I never saw it because I suppose in some ways I didn't want to. But in the small amount of time that I watched you with Hermione, I saw my son again; happy and content. She has improved you, and I have no doubts that she loves you in return."

Draco stared at her, not sure what to say, it appeared that his mother knew him all too well.

"Draco, darling," Narcissa leaned forward and took his hand, "I'm sorry that we made the wrong decision. I'm sorry that we have been so closed off to you and that you couldn't be with Hermione. You may not believe me, but I truly am sorry."

Draco still felt cautious, his mother wasn't known for being forgiving, or tolerant, and he had to wonder if she was telling him what he wanted to hear so she could simply see her grandson.

Narcissa sighed, "You don't believe me, do you?"

"You've given me very little reason _to_ believe you." Draco shook his head, "I told you that you had a granddaughter and I told you that the mother of your grandson abandoned him, and you were more concerned for her than either of them."

"I know. And I was wrong." Narcissa let out a long exhale, "Draco, listen. You've been told your entire life that people like Hermione are worthless, and yes, beneath you. And I was always told the same. I was told that life is a fixed path and you do not deviate from it. We walk one line, and they walk another. But she and Mr Potter opened my eyes and made me see that everything is not that black and white.

"Darling, you can do anything you want, be anything you want, and love who you want. And if you love her as much as you say that you do, then that's all that matters. Draco, I made the mistake of not knowing my place when your father and I insisted that you marry Astoria, and I know it's not my place to make comment now, but I can see that Hermione is the one who is best for you, and I want only for you to be happy. And I promise you that I will accept Hermione, and Ara, and I will love them both since I'm sure that they will be family very soon."

Draco smiled and nodded, "They already are."

Scorpius crawled over and pulled himself to his feet, using Draco's knees for support. "Mum," he said.

Narcissa's eyes went wide, "He's talking?"

Draco lifted his son from the floor, "Just the one word."

"Mum? Not dad?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes." Draco shifted Scorpius in his lap, "It surprised us as much as you." He shrugged, "But maybe it's not much of a surprise really. He loves her because she loves him."

"Yes, I noticed," She smiled at her grandson, "And if she's as caring with Scorpius as she is with Ara, I can't wish for anything more."

"I want to believe you mother, I really do. And I hope that you prove me wrong in all of this, because Hermione is in my life for good."

* * *

"Hey," Draco said smiling at the sight before him. Hermione and Scorpius were on the couch, Hermione was reading quietly to his son who was reclined back against her chest, his thumb in his mouth, following Hermione's finger as she pointed out pictures in the book.

It was a sight that he knew he would never get tired of seeing.

"Hey," Hermione said quietly, reaching out to him and pulling him down to the couch with them. Scorpius instantly held his arms out to Draco and he reached out and lifted him from Hermione's lap.

"Sorry I'm late," He kissed Scorpius' blonde hair and hugged him, "What have you two been doing?"

"Well, Amelie said after you dropped him off, she took Scorpius out for the day, and right now he's exhausted and fighting sleep." She brushed her hand over Scorpius' head which was now leaning sleepily against Draco's shoulder. "So we're trying to stay quiet and calm, and I'm hoping he'll be asleep sooner rather than later or we're in for a long, restless night with him."

Scorpius lifted his head from Draco's shoulder and scowled, tears filling his eyes, "Mum." He sobbed and looked at Hermione.

"Oh, sweetheart," Hermione cooed at him and took him back from Draco. She stood and rocked him gently, rubbing her hand in circles across Scorpius' back, soothing his tired sobs. It had taken almost an hour to get his tired grizzles and whines to stop after Amelie, - who, almost in tears herself, had been apologetic and had insisted that she stay and help with him - had dropped him back home. Hermione had assured her that she would be fine with him and that she should go home, but Hermione had almost forgotten just how long tired whines could go on for.

"I don't think I've ever seen him this exhausted," Draco noted.

"Amelie said he refused to sleep all day, and I'm certain that she thinks you're going to fire her for bringing him home in such a state."

Draco laughed quietly, "She's been my lifesaver since he was born, she's not going anywhere."

"That's what I told her," Hermione said and shifted Scorpius slightly in her arms.

"Did you want me to take him?"

"No," She said quietly, feeling him growing heavier against her shoulder. "He's almost out."

Draco sat quietly, watching his son fall asleep in Hermione's arms. His nanny had him only during the day now, Hermione insisting that she was more than happy to help to take care of his son with him after they had both finished at their jobs, and he was always amazed at just how easy Hermione made taking care of a child look. She was a natural at it, and now Scorpius reached for her more often than he did for Draco.

A tiny sigh sounded in the silence and Hermione smiled, "One more minute,' She whispered, rocking slowly from foot to foot, her hand still rubbing gently over his back. He relaxed completely against her and she nodded, "He's out."

Draco stood and kissed his son's cheek, smiling at Hermione, slightly in awe of her patience; he would have caved and called for Amelie. His heart beat just a little faster as he watched her taking him down the hallway to Ara's room where they had put his crib when she had left for school.

It wasn't ideal, and he hadn't yet approached Hermione about their living arrangements. He knew that this was hers' and Ara's home, but he wasn't sure that he could stay there forever. He knew that both he and Scorpius were more than welcome to stay as long as they wanted; Ara had asked Harry and Ginny only days after she had arrived home from school, and they had assured her that since her father and baby brother were a part of the family now, that they were both more than welcome to stay.

The discussion he'd had with his mother that morning wasn't even close to the truth; he was more than all in. He would lay his life on the line for her. He loved Hermione more and more each day. She was more than his everything; she was his whole world. But his selfish side wanted it to be just them, wanted them to have their own home, but he knew that he would have to be cautious when he finally suggested it to her.

She returned a minute later and curled against him on the couch.

"You're fucking amazing, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know." She said and then squirmed as he pinched her ribs. "How was your day?"

"I spoke to my mother this morning."

She looked up at him, her face coloured with amusement. She'd been curious as to how long he would hold out before he spoke to her. "How'd that go?"

"Better than I thought," He told her. "She actually apologised for everything. And she says she's happy if I'm happy and that she'll do her best to be accepting of you."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Draco nodded, "Yeah, but I guess it's still hard to think that she can change that much."

" _You_ did," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess so," Draco shrugged, "I'm trying to be positive, but I just can't see it happening."

Hermione squeezed his thigh, "I'm sure that your daughter has won her over, and if we just give it some time I'm sure that I can do the same."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "You really think you can change her mind?"

"I'm fucking amazing, you know that right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think anyone's _that_ amazing."

Hermione sighed. She knew he had been stewing over his mother since she'd he'd first told her about his daughter. And he had been even more concerned since they had met. "Draco, you forgave me, and I think what I did was easily as awful as your mother making you marry someone you didn't want to. I ran away from you with no explanation, I lied and hid your child from you, and yet here you are, virtually living in the home of your childhood enemy with me."

"It's not the same Hermione." His brows furrowed, "What you did was only to protect Ara. What my mother did was only to improve her image. She cared nothing about me, or how I felt, she only cared about her perfect, pure blood and expected the same of me."

"You know that's not true,' Hermione said carefully, "You know she loves you more than anything. She made a mistake, and she admitted it. Maybe you should give her a chance here, she might surprise you."

He squeezed her thigh, "Did you ever think the day would come when you were taking Narcissa Malfoy's side?"

Hermione tilted her head and laughed, "No, I guess I didn't think I ever would, but I'm happy to be in her corner."

"I think she may have hexed you."

"Not chance," Hermione said mockingly, "I'm twice the witch she is."

He kissed her forehead, "That you are."

Hermione sat up and took his hand in hers, "Draco, promise me you'll give her a chance. You may not have seen it, but I saw the look on her face when she met Ara, and she fell instantly in love with her. And that kind of love you just can't hide."

"What kind is that?"

"A mother's love. A grandmother's love," She smiled at him, "Ask Harry about it, it's unbreakable."


	18. Chapter 18

The front door slammed and the loud bang was quickly followed by hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. Draco, Harry and Ginny all started and turned around at the sounds.

"Shit," Harry swore quietly, "Something's pissed her off."

Ginny looked at Draco and smirked, "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Draco said staring at the kitchen door, "At least I think nothing."

Hermione had been quiet and distracted for days, and when he had asked her what was wrong, she had waved him away, telling him that it was nothing, that she just missing her daughter. Ara had been gone for only six weeks, which was less than half the time of her first full term at Hogwarts, and Hermione hadn't been as noticeably bothered by her daughter's absence then as much as she was now.

He had let it slide, not wanting to irritate her. But he knew there was something else, he just wasn't sure what it was.

A fleeting moment of panic had him thinking that she was having second thoughts about him, that maybe what they had had as teenagers was in fact just a fling and she was now trying to figure out if there was a way out, just as she had done before. But he told himself that he was wrong; he knew she wouldn't do that again.

"Draco," Ginny put her hand on his shoulder, seeing the panic in his eyes, "I was kidding. She's probably just had a shit day. Go, see what's wrong. We'll watch Scorp."

Draco shook his head, "No, she's been, I don't know...off...for a few days now. Tell me you haven't noticed it?"

"No, we've noticed it." Harry said, "We figured she'd tell you, clearly she hasn't?"

"No. She just said she's missing Ara. But I don't believe that's it."

"Um, didn't she meet with your mother a few days ago?" Ginny asked with a grimace, "I'm not accusing her of anything, but that's when this started."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose; he hadn't even thought that his mother could be the cause of her irritation. He looked between them both, "If my mother did cause this, maybe I should let her cool off first."

"Draco Malfoy. You're not scared of her, are you?" Harry said with a grin.

"No, not scared. Terrified." Draco said, "Tell me the two of you aren't."

Harry conceded the point, "Yeah, you're right. But fortunately for us, _you're_ the one who has to go and talk to her."

"How long should I wait?" Draco said, his eyes fixed on the doorway.

"Less would be better," Ginny told him and winced as an upstairs door slammed. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, "It's been nice knowing you."

Draco sighed, "See, this is why I hated you lot at school. It's all drama."

Ginny snorted a laugh, "Hello pot, this is kettle."

Draco rolled his eyes and stood. He took a steadying breath, "Wish me luck."

* * *

Draco stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up. Of all the things he had faced in his life, this was the most terrifying. An angry Hermione Granger was not a prospect anyone wanted to have to face. But he figured this was what he had agreed to, the good _and_ the bad.

He somewhat reluctantly began to climb the stairs, hoping that this wasn't the end, hoping that his mother hadn't said something to her that had her changing her mind about them, and that it was only something as simple as a bad day, like Ginny had said.

He reached the top floor, and slowly made his way down the hallway, expecting to find her in the sitting room, but she was nowhere to be seen. He exhaled and headed for the bedroom, hearing the bathroom door slam.

He paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

 _Shit_.

This wasn't going to be pretty.

And if his mother was the cause of this, he would have no problems sending her the same way that Molly had sent his insane aunt.

He pushed the door open and found her pacing on the opposite side of the room. She was out of her work clothes wearing what he had come to learn were her 'lazy weekend clothes:' a pair of baggy sweat pants and a tank top. But judging by the state she was in, they appeared to be playing more of a comfort role rather than a lazy weekend one.

"Hermione?"

She spun around and glared at him; a glare so severe that he was instantly wishing he had sent Ginny up to see what was wrong.

"Hey," He said calmly, walking slowly towards her, "What's happened?"

"You fucking did it again, you fucking wanker!" Hermione exploded.

Draco took a step back, she was waving something at him, but he wasn't sure what it was, and in the current state of rage she was in, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What did I do?" He asked cautiously, holding his hands up in case the need to defend himself arose.

"You got me fucking pregnant!"

"I got you what!?" His eyes were like saucers.

"Are you deaf?" She snapped, "Pregnant. I'm fucking pregnant." She resumed pacing back and forth, her hand rubbing across her forehead. She shoved the object she was holding into his chest as she walked past him. He grabbed it and stared at it, not having any clue as to what it was; a plastic stick with a small cross in the window halfway along its length.

He held it up to her, waving it in the air, "I'm supposed to know what this is?"

Her anger turned to confusion as she looked at him, and then realised that he was right, he would never have seen a muggle pregnancy test. "You pee on the stick, and it tells you if you're pregnant or not. In this case it's a yes."

Draco stared at it, and she watched as his brain finally caught up. Hermione didn't think it possible but his eyes went wider. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, and she quickly stepped in front of him, gripping his shoulder, afraid he was going to pass out.

"Draco?"

He didn't respond, instead he reached out and pulled her top up and stared at her stomach. He gently placed his hand on her and she smiled; her stomach was flat. There was no visible evidence that there was anything growing there, but his face was a picture of awe.

She hadn't been sure what to expect from him. She'd been too furious with herself for being so careless again to consider that his reaction would be anything but anger. But the current look on his face suggested otherwise. She hadn't told him the first time, hadn't seen his reaction, and she wondered if it would have been the same as this.

"You're pregnant," he whispered.

She carded her fingers through his hair, "I'm pregnant."

He glanced up at her, about to ask when, and a grin split his face.

 ** _*** DMHG ***_**

 _The day after they'd taken Ara back to the station, he'd been home for a couple of hours before Hermione had finished work. She had volunteered to stay late, some famous muggle author was releasing a new book and she said they were expecting bedlam. He'd eaten dinner with Ginny and Harry before putting Scorpius to bed and was reading, waiting for her to come home. And as soon as she had ascended the stairs, he knew a quiet night was the last thing on her mind; she most definitely had other intentions. And he silently hoped those intentions were to finish what she had started two nights previous._

 _"_ _Scorpius?" she had asked, and he told her he was sleeping. She flicked her wrist, casting a silencing charm and ripped the book from his hands, then straddled him on the couch. She had ripped his shirt apart and dropped her mouth to his throat and chest, kissing him with a frantic fervour. It_ _had taken him a few seconds to catch up, but when he did, clothes began to fly across the room and as soon they were both naked he was dragging her to the floor. She gasped at the cold floorboards pressed against her back, but he swallowed it with his mouth, his tongue sliding between her lips to tangle with hers._

 _"_ _Draco," She moaned, reaching between them to wrap her hand around his cock. She began to stroke him, her thumb sliding across the head, slicking the beads of wetness she found there along his shaft._

 _Draco groaned, her hand was perfect, but he wanted more. He pushed her hand away, gripped her leg, pushed it up towards her shoulder and slid into her. He groaned at the sensation; her mouth the previous night had been like magic, but nothing compared to being inside her._

 _His name slipped from her lips, a breathy, whispered sound that had him tensing his entire body so he wouldn't explode into her after just a few minutes He loosened his grip on her leg, and she wrapped it around his waist. Her moans had begun to fall freely from her mouth as he pumped into her. She clawed at his back, pleading for more, to go harder, faster. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the small sitting room, their moans and grunts becoming as frantic as their movements. Draco was thrusting into her, hard and fast, until she arched beneath him, her walls clenching around him, his name on her lips. He'd followed her over the edge, spilling into her, groaning loudly and collapsing on top of her_.

 _ ***** DMHG *****_

"We forgot again, yeah?" He tugged her towards him, and she lowered herself to sit on his lap, her knees resting beside each of his hips.

"I guess so." Hermione said and linked her fingers behind his neck.

He cupped her jaw and drew her towards him, kissing her with a gentle tenderness that had her melting into him. He moved his hands from her face, surrounding her waist and pulling her closer.

"We're having a baby Hermione." He gave a breathless laugh feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. This was the last thing he had thought to expect when he ascended the stairs.

"Yeah, we are." She said quietly.

"Hey," he said pulling back to look at her, "This is a good thing, right?"

"Yes," she smiled at him and nodded, "And you'll be here for this one."

Draco pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head, "Don't go there, Hermione. You did everything right the first time and I won't hear anything different from you, okay."

She nodded then lowered her eyes. Draco's brows creased, "Talk to me, what's going on in that head of yours."

"It's not too soon?"

"Too soon?" Draco looked puzzled, "Why would it be too soon?"

She shrugged, "You've been divorced for only a few months, and we've not been together much longer than that. And Scorpius only turned one at Christmas. And everyone will think that it's my fault."

"Is that seriously bothering you?" He laughed, "Hermione, you got pregnant after only a few weeks the first time. We've been together while now, so no, it's not too soon. And this is most definitely not your fault."

"But-"

He cut her off with his mouth, holding her face and kissing her a long, lingering kiss. She slid her fingers across his jaw, as he parted his lips, tracing his tongue over her lower lip. He captured her mouth again, kissing her long and slow, and she felt his hand press to her stomach, his thumb sliding across her bare skin.

She pulled back, looking down and covering his hand with hers, their foreheads resting together.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I wasn't completely sure." She said, "And I was kind of mad at us again for forgetting again."

"Are you happy?" he asked, a little tentatively.

"I'm a little shocked," She said, "But yes. I'm happy. Are you happy?"

"Happy? Shit, its way more than happy." He kissed her quickly and then he surprised her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist and flipping them over.

"Really?" she asked as his hands gripped the hem of her tank top pulling it up over her head. "You get me pregnant, and your response is to fuck me some more?"

"I hear that pregnant women are exceptionally horny, so I'm just helping out." he told her, making her laugh. She tugged at his shirt, and he helped her lift it over his head.

He took his time, kissing down her jaw line, across her throat, making his way down her body. He stopped at her stomach, leaning down, pressing his forehead against her. She ran her hand through his hair, as he pressed soft, gentle kisses across her belly. His hands went lower, tugging at the waistband of her sweat pants, pulling both them and her underwear down at the same time and tossing them to the floor. He shifted, pushing up to his knees and removing his jeans and adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Her bra was all that remained, and he quickly rectified it. He slid his hand under her back, and she arched slightly, allowing him room to unclasp it and slide it off her body.

He pressed his lips to her belly, "Put your fingers in your ears little one, you don't need to hear this"

Hermione laughed as he made his way back up her body, kissing every inch of her skin, until he was hovering over her. He placed a kiss on each of her nipples, and then shot her a devilish grin, "Your tits _are_ going to get bigger, right?"

She slapped his shoulder, "You're such a pervert, you know that?"

He shrugged, "You knew I was a breast man when you met me."

She laughed at the look of reverence on his face when she told him _yes, her breasts would definitely get bigger,_ and wrapped her thigh around his hip. She rocked against him, and murmured "Draco," as his cock slid against her warm skin.

He paused momentarily to watch her, his eyes wandering over her face. She was the mother of his daughter, she was becoming the mother of his son, and now, she was giving him one more piece of herself, one more piece of them. He didn't care what anyone thought, she was the love of his life, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that she knew just how much he loved her for the remainder of his life.

He sighed, kissing her once more and settled his hips against hers. He shifted forward, slowly slipping into the wetness that had pooled between her thighs. Her body arched beneath him, her eyes closing, and a low, contented moan escaped her lips.

He took his time loving her, moving in a slow rhythm. He leaned down, smiling against her ear, "We made a baby."

Hermione opened her eyes and lifted his face to look at her, "We made baby."

* * *

"We'll get married over the summer," he told her as he pulled his jeans back on, "When Ara comes home, we'll get married."

"That's the shittiest proposal I've ever heard," Hermione said, pausing in her own re-dressing, "So, no."

"You're saying no to me?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah. I know it's not something I've ever said to you, obviously," She grinned, "But this time I'm saying no. If you want to marry me, Mr Malfoy, you will ask me properly, not while I'm redressing after spontaneous sex."

He held her face and kissed her, "Okay then. I will ask you properly. It will be the most amazing proposal that ever happened. In fact, it will be so amazing, it will leave you breathless."

"Hmm," she hummed, looping her arms around his neck, "I have pretty high expectations. Are you sure you can meet them?"

"First you say no to me, and then you question my romantic abilities?" He narrowed his eyes at her, "Maybe I _don't_ want to marry you."

Hermione laughed and disentangled herself from his arms, "That's a lie. You've wanted to marry me since I was seventeen."

He ran his fingers over the curve of her hip as she bent to retrieve her tank top, "You're right."

She smiled as her head popped through her top, "Of course I am."

He stepped closer and cupped her jaw, running his thumbs across her cheeks, "Hermione Granger, I don't care if you don't say yes today, or even in ten years, or even if you never do. You are the love of my life and I'm all in with you. Until the day I die." He leaned in and kissed her and then whispered against her lips, "Marry me, Hermione?"

Hermione's breath hitched and she felt tears tug at her eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest. She had expected a big, public display in several months time. But he had done exactly what he had promised and taken her breath away with the perfect proposal.

"Yes," She whispered quietly and then threw her arms around his neck.

He lifted her from the floor and swung her around, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, yes" she said laughing, "A thousand times yes."

He pulled back and peered at her, "Yes?"

"Yes, Draco Malfoy," She breathed, "I want to be married to you."

* * *

"So, I'm guessing you sorted her out then?" Ginny said with a smirk as they entered the kitchen.

Hermione's lips twisted into a smile; they been upstairs for a while and it was fairly obvious exactly what they had been doing. She'd seen the aftermath of Harry and Ginny's escapades often enough, so she wasn't bothered by Ginny's smirk.

"Mum!" Scorpius cried and slapped his hands on the tray of his highchair. Albus laughed and copied his actions. Scorpius looked at him and clapped his hands, and then the pair were laughing like crazy and banging their hands repeatedly, making as much noise as they could. James laughingly joined them, adding to the ruckus.

Ginny pressed her fingers to her temples, "Do you remember when there was just one baby, and she had no encouragement from anyone to make this much noise?"

Draco plucked his son from his chair while Harry did the same with Albus. Hermione pulled James onto her lap as she sat beside Ginny, holding onto his hands before he could continue the noise.

"No," Harry said, "If I remember correctly, Ara was born talking."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, "And you want another one?"

Hermione's eyes darted to Draco who grinned at her, before she looked at Harry, "Another one? _Really,_ Harry Potter? I do remember you saying that two was more than enough."

"I don't remember saying that at all," Harry said, "And it's not just me, it's my wife that is insisting on another one."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at her friend.

"I love my boys," Ginny said, "But I want my own princess."

Hermione laughed, "You think Ara's a princess?"

"Even I know the answer to that one." Draco said. He'd been elbow deep in potion ingredients enough with his daughter to know that she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

Hermione squeezed Draco's thigh under the table and he frowned at the curious look on her face. She gave him a tiny shrug and he shook his head, not knowing what she was asking.

"Okay you two, what's going on?" Ginny asked, watching the silent exchange between the two.

Hermione huffed out a frustrated breath and Draco's eyes went wide, "Oh. _Oh._ Yeah, if you want."

She smiled and looked at Ginny, "You can't tell anyone, yeah?" Ginny nodded and she continued, "Well, there might be another princess in the house sooner than you think."

Ginny looked between the pair, and Harry laughed, "So, you did it again, Malfoy?"

Draco gave him a one-shouldered shrug and smirked, "I guess I did."

Harry reached across the table and squeezed Hermione's hand, smiling at her, "Explains why you've been kind of a bitch of late."

Hermione laughed, "Thanks Harry."

Ginny, who had been oddly silent, suddenly squealed and slapped her hand on the table. The three boys took it as an indication that they could do the same, and the ruckus started up again.

"Holy shit! You're pregnant?" Ginny asked when they got the boys under control again.

Hermione looked up at her, her eyes wide and she nodded, "Yep."

Ginny, unable to hold back, leaped from her chair and wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck, "This is awesome." She reached over and punched Draco's shoulder, "I'm assuming you forgot again? You need to get your shit sorted out."

Draco couldn't stop the burst of laughter that rumbled from his chest, "Too late now."

"And how long have you known?" Ginny said pulling back and narrowing her eyes at Hermione.

"About a week," Hermione told her.

"And I've known for about..." Draco's eyes flicked to the clock, "...an hour."

Ginny's eyes went wide, "So you're only just..."

"Maybe six weeks," Hermione waved her hand in the air.

"So you don't actually know if it's a princess?"

"Ginny," Harry warned, "You'll get your own princess, I'll just have to up my game."

Draco reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, "Still trying to keep up with me Potter?"

Harry sniggered and then winked at Ginny, "Maybe we won't cast that silencing spell tonight. Then we'll see who's competing with whom."

Ginny shook her head at him in mock disgust and then turned back to Hermione, "Maybe it should be a princess," she looked around the table, "Five males in this house is way too much testosterone."


	19. Chapter 19

It was late when Draco leaned on the doorframe of the nursery, smiling at the sight before him

His fiancé and their new son.

Tiny Caelum was cradled against Hermione's breast; Hermione was brushing her hand gently across his head murmuring quietly to him, telling him fantastical stories of wizards and witches.

They had both been concerned as to what Ara's reaction to the news of a new baby would be when she came home during her Easter break. Hermione had been the one to tell her and she had silently looked between the two of them, before squealing and bursting into tears. They had both held their breath, wondering if the tears were that of excitement or that of anger, and they were pleased to know that it was the former, when she engulfed Hermione and babbled incessantly about how she was going to be a big sister again.

And her excitement had doubled when she had come home at the end of the school year and saw Hermione's swollen belly. She barely left her mother's side, talking to her belly, explaining to the baby who she was and that she wouldn't be home when it was born because she would be away at school. And her excited tears had returned when they arranged for her to come home for the weekend after he was born so she could meet her new brother.

Scorpius had been fascinated by the squirming, crying bundle. He'd been gentle and sweet, proudly pointing out Caelum's nose and ears to anyone who would listen. And then when they brought the baby home, he lost all interest and could have cared less about his baby brother.

Of course it hadn't all been roses.

Caelum had arrived four weeks earlier than expected, and was tiny. Much tinier than Scorpius had been and Draco had been nervous about holding him, about even breathing near him, and he'd been hesitant to help out at first. He'd watched the ease at with which Hermione handled their tiny son, and in his own stupid mind he told himself to not overstep. She had brought up their daughter virtually on her own and most likely didn't need his help.

And it wasn't until after the first two weeks, when she had told him in a tired and frustrated tone that he didn't need to ask permission to hold his own son, that he realised that he was maybe still blaming her a little bit for her actions with Ara all those years ago. Hermione – through complete exhaustion – eventually exploded at him, asking how many more times she had to apologise before his stupid thick head would understand her reasons why she did what she did and that she needed his help this time, needed it more than anything because she couldn't take care of newborn and a toddler without help, and then she had had burst into tears.

He'd felt sick to his stomach and cursed himself for his own stupidity; she had just given birth to their son and was also taking care of _his_ son, and he was acting like the spoiled, sullen brat he once was. She needed him, and he had been deliberately - even if it was somewhat unconsciously - taking his frustration and anger out on her. He'd held her close and apologised over and over, insisting that this was his fault, and his insecurities, not hers.

And then he stepped up, and things were much better.

Hermione looked up, realising he was watching them, and smiled. "Daddy's come to listen to a story too," She told her infant son, who snuffled against her as if in acknowledgment of Draco's presence.

Draco laughed as he crossed the room, leaning down to kiss Hermione's forehead, "What are you telling him?"

"Just how amazing you were when you were younger."

"I think you're delirious from a lack of sleep."

Hermione snorted a laugh at him, "Probably."

It had been just over two months since Hermione had given birth to their son, and much like Ara, he was not a great sleeper. He rarely slept longer than two or three hours at a time, and both Hermione and Draco were constantly exhausted. Hermione had been highly amused at Draco's disbelief at his new son's indifference to sleep; she had been accustomed to it with Ara, but Draco had only known Scorpius and his almost two year-old son slept for 12 hours each night.

Hermione sighed and gently brushed her hand over Caelum's downy blonde hair, "This exhaustion won't be forever. I'm sure when he's seventeen we'll be dragging him out of bed."

"It had better happen before he's that old."

Hermione smiled up at him. His eyes were dark and heavy, and she knew he was exhausted. Amelie had been amazing. She continued to take care of Scorpius, and - after sensing that Hermione was someone who didn't always ask for help - insisted on helping out with Caelum. But Hermione had refused to let her be with them twenty-four hours a day, telling her that she was helping enough during the day. And besides, a sleepless baby was what she was used to and that Draco had been spoiled by Scorpius' constant need for sleep.

"You should get some sleep." She told him, "You look completely wiped."

"I look no worse than you," He said and leaned his hands on the arms of the rocking chair. He leaned in and whispered against her lips, "You're amazing, you know that? I'm pretty sure I'd have gone bat-crap crazy by now if it wasn't for you."

Hermione smiled against his mouth, pressing her lips to his, sure that a kiss with this much heat was highly inappropriate considering their baby son was currently nestled in the space between them. She reached her free hand to the back of Draco's neck, her fingers brushing against the hairs at the base of his skull, as his tongue slid across her lips. She opened her mouth to allow him entrance, but they were interrupted by a small squeak from between them. Draco glanced down to find his son looking up at him, his face scrunched up, about to wail at the disruption.

"He has your frown already," Hermione said with a small laugh, cradling Caelum's tiny head and whispering, "Come back here, sweetheart."

Draco's stomach clenched. Between the broken sleep and having a toddler, there had been virtually no time for each other, and he found his breath hitching at the sight of Hermione's full, round breast, her pink nipple swollen and leaking. He knew that he shouldn't be aroused by the sight, especially since that nipple was now disappearing back into his sons' mouth, but since Caelum's arrival, Hermione's breasts had filled out, turning him into a cave man at the sight of them.

He cleared his throat and pulled back, "I'll leave you to your story."

Hermione took his hand, "Hey, you can stay."

He smiled reassuringly at her, "That's okay. I shouldn't distract him."

She pressed his hand to her lips, "Wait for me, okay."

He assured her he would and headed for the door. He glanced back over his shoulder, and smiled, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky.

* * *

Hermione pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before placing him gently into his crib. She said a silent prayer to herself and crossed her fingers in the hope that Caelum sleep a little longer than his usual few hours. She had decided she was ready. Ready to spend time with Draco. Intimately. And the way he'd been staring at her breasts had caused heat to flare low in her stomach and she realised just how long it had been.

She wandered into their bedroom and found him in bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, his eyes focused solely on the book in his lap. For all the teasing about her being a bookworm, he was almost as bad.

He glanced up, "He's asleep?"

"For the time being," Hermione told him, "I'll just be a minute." He nodded and put his book on the nightstand.

She changed quickly, pulling on some sleep shorts and a tank, and returned to their bedroom, smiling at the sight. His eyes were closed and his chest was moving up and down in a steady rhythm. She sighed, all thoughts of having her way with him left her and she slid into the bed beside him.

He started, his eyes flicking open and turning to face her, "Sorry. I'm more tired than I thought."

She leaned against him, wrapping an arm across his waist, "That's okay. I just thought maybe..."

"Hermione?" Draco asked, "You just thought what?"

She smiled and pushed him back. She shifted and straddled his lap, almost laughing at the stunned expression on his face, She leaned in and kissed him, "I just thought that if you're not too tired...I'm ready."

Draco's hands gripped her hips, "Are you sure?"

"I am," she said, "I've missed this with you."

"Well, we have been rather busy with the tiny creatures down the hallway."

Hermione laughed, "I'm sure Scorpius and Caelum won't like their daddy calling them creatures."

"But they're such a cute little creatures," he grinned sliding his hands along Hermione's thighs, "I don't want you to rush into this."

"I'm not," Hermione caught his mouth with hers, her tongue sliding against his. He cupped her head with his hands and sat up, kissing her with equal fervour, causing her to moan into his open mouth. She ground down onto his growing length, breaking the kiss to pull her tank top over her head.

Draco sucked in a breath at the sight of her full, round breasts, and she grinned at him, "I saw you looking."

He looked up at her, "They're kind of hard to miss."

She laughed, "I told you they would get bigger."

"I know," He said, his eyes flicking back to her chest, "They're just way more phenomenal than I imagined they would be."

Hermione leaned in and kissed him, "I'm glad you approve."

He rolled her to her back and slid her cotton shorts off. He kissed her stomach and hips, moving higher along her ribs to the swell of her breast. Even though she'd only just fed Caelum, they were already becoming full and tight. He brushed his thumb over her swollen nipple, and she hissed out a breath, not realising just how sensitive it was.

"Hermione?" Draco paused his hand, "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay, keep going." Hermione told him, but he raised his eyebrows questioningly, "I'm used to your sons' mouth, your fingers feel different, that's all."

"Is that so?" He smirked at her and lowered his mouth to her nipple. He ran his tongue across the hardened bud, causing Hermione to moan and arch beneath him. He grazed his teeth gently across her sensitive skin, closing his mouth and sucking at her pink flesh. He pulled his head back suddenly, surprising her.

"What?" she asked slightly concerned.

He looked up at her, a lopsided grin on his face, "That's new."

Realising what had happened, she started to laugh, "How's it taste?"

"Sweet," He said biting his bottom lip, "like honey." He gently squeezed her and watched, enthralled, as the white liquid fell from her nipple and rolled down the curve of her breast, "I guess this is going to be messy for a while, huh?"

Draco's eyes widened in surprise as Hermione reached for her other breast, squeezing it gently, her milk sliding freely over her skin, "Maybe you'll just have to lick me clean." She said in a low voice.

"Gladly." He groaned and bent his head to catch the falling liquid with his tongue. Hermione's breaths were becoming shorter and faster as Draco's lips and teeth and tongue lavished attention on her sensitive nipples. She shifted beneath him, spreading her thighs, lifting her hips in search of him. He reached down between them, finding her slick and swollen, and they moaned in unison as he gently slid two fingers inside her. He ground the heel of his hand against her clit as he moved his fingers slowly inside her. She began to rock against him, fucking his hand. He peered up at her and smirked at the sight. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, mouth open and gasping for breath. He kissed his way up her chest and throat, along her jaw, trailing his tongue around her ear.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He growled and her eyes flew open, "Is that what you want? For me to fuck you good and proper?"

"Yes," she breathed, "Draco, yes." She reached down, and swore when she realised he was still wearing his boxers, "How the fuck are you still dressed?"

She growled and shoved them down his legs. He kicked them off his feet and gritted his teeth when her hand flew to his cock and squeezed, tugging him unceremoniously towards her. He pressed the head of his cock to her, and paused, suddenly remembering that he needed to go slow. They'd been told to wait at least four, possibly six, weeks to allow the bruising and swelling from childbirth to heal. This was as new to him as it was to her, (Astoria hadn't let him near her for almost 6 months after Scorpius was born as punishment for his ruining her figure), and he had no idea how Hermione's body would react, how long it would take to fully heal, if she was even still sore and bruised, if the extra month she'd waited had been enough. Her brow furrowed, her eyes questioning him.

"Are you sure?" He said softly.

Her face relaxed and she smiled up at him, "I'm sure."

She pressed her hand to her stomach, remembering one more thing, "I love our children with all my heart, but three's enough."

Draco laughed and leaned down and kissed her, taking himself in hand and gently sliding the tip of his cock into her. A flicker of pain crossed her face and a tiny surprised sound escaped her.

"Hermione?" Draco said, "Do you want me to stop?"

Her fingers dug into his hips, "No...please...keep going."

Draco hesitated before pushing deeper into her, their hips meeting as he buried himself to the hilt.

Hermione sighed at the familiar feeling of him. The discomfort of his first push inside her was completely gone, replaced by the exquisite feeling of him. She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her, "Hey" she whispered, brushing her hand across his cheek.

"Hey," he said, "You okay?"

"Perfect," she assured him and ground her hips into him, urging him to move. He began slowly, rolling his hips against her, small shallow thrusts waiting for her to relax beneath him. She moved her hands lower, digging her fingers into his arse, "Draco, more."

He smiled at her, torn between not wanting to hurt her and wanting to fuck her senseless. She returned his smile and nodded, letting him know that she was fine. He kissed her and pushed himself onto his knees, gripping her hips and began thrusting into her harder.

She pressed her hand to his naval, brushing over the fine hair, feeling his muscles ripple with each thrust. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and she watched as he finally gave into his own needs and moved faster.

" _Fuck_ ," Draco's voice was ragged, his eyes focused on where he was sliding in and out of her, "Your pussy is...ungh...fuck!"

Hermione grunted in response, it was all she was capable of. She was lost in him, every thought disappearing from her mind, leaving only him. Her senses were on overload, the sound of his breathless grunts, the heavy slide of his hard length inside her had her body shuddering beneath him. She opened her eyes to watch him and the sight had her almost unravelling. His eyes were dark, boring into her. The strain visible on his face, he was holding on, waiting for her.

"Give it to me," he managed through gritted teeth, his thumb finding her clit and pressing down, "Let go."

It was all she needed, her body arched and cry of pleasure ripped through the room as she spasmed around him and clamped down, a flood of wetness coating his cock. Draco gripped her hips and pumped into her, two more almost brutal thrusts before his entire body clenched and he exploded, pouring himself into her.

He fell forward, collapsing onto her, her breath hot on his sweat soaked skin. She wrapped herself around him before he could pull out of her, holding him close.

"That was..." She huffed out a breath, "I needed that."

Draco lifted his head, "I don't think I'll ever _not_ need that." He kissed her, a soft, sweet kiss and she relaxed her grip on him. He shifted to lay beside her, "Are you okay?" Draco asked.

Hermione rolled to her side to face him, "Aside from being a delightfully sticky mess, I'm perfect."

Draco looked down between them, their torsos were covered with each other's sweat and her milk, and he noticed her breasts were still leaking. He smiled at her, "Shower?"

She followed his gaze and grimaced, "Might be for the best." She reached over to her nightstand and grabbed the baby monitor before following Draco to the bathroom. She placed it on the counter while Draco started the shower. He reached back, taking her hand and pulling her under the warm water. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against Draco's chest, and sighed.

"You okay?" Draco asked.

"Exhausted." She replied.

"We didn't have to-"

"Happy exhausted," she told him, "Very happy exhausted."

Draco turned her around so she faced the stream of water and cleaned her sticky skin. She leaned her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes and sighing.

"I love you," she told him.

He pressed his cheek to hers, "I love you too."

Draco shut off the water and pulled her from the shower. He dried them both and watched as she struggled to keep her eyes open as she redressed, "You need to get into bed before you fall over."

"Uh-huh. So do you," she said with a yawn, allowing him to help her into bed.

He kissed her temple, her eyes already closed, and returned to the bathroom to grab the baby monitor and placed it on his nightstand. He slid into bed, smiling at Hermione. She was already in a deep sleep. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and curled his body around her, "Sleep my love." he whispered before nodding off himself.

* * *

Draco was jolted awake by the wails of his son echoing down the hallway. Why Hermione had insisted on buying the ridiculous muggle speaker was beyond him; their son could wake the dead. Hermione groaned from beside him, and he touched her back between her shoulders and told her, "Stay there, I'll get him."

She nodded, rolling to her back and digging her fingers into her eyes, attempting pull the sleep from them. She blinked her eyes open, looking at the bedside clock and groaning at the fact that her baby son had slept for less than three hours. "Maybe I'll take Amelie up on her offer."

He smiled back over his shoulder at her as he headed out the door towards his crying son, "No one will think less of you if you do."

He picked Caelum up from his crib, wondering how Scorpius could sleep through the racket, and cradled him against his chest. The baby wriggled against him, however when he realised that he was daddy, not mummy, his wails became louder.

"Hey, it's okay," he told him, laying him down to change his nappy, "Just give me a minute and we can go and find mummy."

Hermione was sitting up already, her back pressed against the headboard, when he returned. She opened her eyes and pulled her tank top up, exposing a heavy, milk laden breast to him. He grinned as he handed Caelum to her.

"You should probably stop showing those off,"

"Really?" She said her voice still full of sleep, "Why's that?"

Draco placed a hand either side of her hips, leaning in towards her, "Because your tits are fucking amazing. And after Caelum's finished, maybe I'd like another go."

Hermione leaned closer, her lips just a breath away from his, "New rule. No dirty talk when our son is in the room."

Draco kissed her, "Agreed." he said and then added, "New Rule. Mummy will ask Amelie to help her more so she's not as tired as she is."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine," she said, "But daddy doesn't get to suck on mummy's tits because he's being a bossy-arse at two-fifteen in the morning."

"That doesn't seem fair," Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "And you just broke new rule number one, so maybe you should be punished."

"Okay, enough," Hermione laughed and covered Caelum's ear, "Our son doesn't need to hear this. You can go back to sleep. You don't need to stay awake."

"No," Draco said, "You're going to finish feeding him, and _I'm_ going to put him back to bed. You're exhausted and need to sleep." She looked at him, about to protest, "Do I need to repeat what I just said?"

"No," She pouted at him, "I hate you when you're all logical and make sense."

"Two in the morning, it's my most logical time of day," he sat next to her resting his chin on her shoulder, "We made another beautiful baby."

"We did." Hermione agreed.

Draco reached out for Caelum's hand, smiling when his tiny son curled his hand around his finger. They watched in silence as he drank his fill before falling asleep, his tiny mouth falling open. Hermione handed him gently to Draco, before climbing out of bed.

"And you're going where?" Draco asked.

She pointed at the bathroom door, "I need to pee, if that's okay."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "That's fine. But I expect you to be in that bed when I get back. Do not follow me."

She rolled her eyes at him, "Yes sir!" She said with a salute.

"And your mum thinks I'm a smart arse," he whispered to Caelum, before carrying him back to his room. He wrapped his son tightly and laid him down gently, then backed quietly out of the room.

He stopped in the doorway of their bedroom, completely stunned by the vision before him. Hermione was most definitely in the bed like he'd asked, however she was completely naked.

She had a smug look on her face, "You said _in_ the bed, you didn't say _asleep_ in the bed."

Draco sucked in a deep breath, knowing that she needed to sleep. But his traitorous cock had other ideas. Feeling himself growing hard at the sight of her, he divested himself of his boxers and crawled up the bed, "You wicked girl."

"It's your turn," she whispered, running her fingers across her collar bones. Her hands slid lower, over her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples, "I see you looking at them. I see you wanting them. But I don't want your mouth on them," She reached down and squeezed his cock, stroking him roughly, "I want you to fuck them."

Draco choked out a surprised _fuck,_ stunned at the words coming from her. He'd not heard her talk like that since before she was pregnant and had forgotten how much he got off on it. He reached up and pinched her nipple before slamming his lips against hers and pushing his tongue into her mouth. He reached down and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from his cock and pressing it to her sex, "Touch yourself," he growled, "Make your pussy wet."

She locked her eyes on his and spread her legs, her fingers rubbing eagerly across her clit. "Watch me Draco. Watch my hand."

His eyes lowered to between her thighs, watching as she worked herself hard and fast. Her breathing was ragged, matching his. He slid his hands along her thighs, pushing her legs wider. He kissed the inside of her knee, his lips moving lower along the soft skin along her inner thigh. His teeth nipped at her, all the while watching her hand. He circled her entrance with his finger, moving in time with her own hand. She moaned his name, her hips thrusting forward, chasing his finger. He pulled his hand back, and she growled in frustration.

"Fuck yourself with your hand," Draco growled at her, "Make yourself come."

She shifted her hand lower, and Draco watched as her fingers slipped inside herself. She pumped faster and faster, the heel of her hand pressing against her clit. Loud, strangled moans were falling from her open mouth, as she began to buck her hips off the mattress. Draco's hand gripped his cock, squeezing hard, stopping his own release, as she came with a cry of his name.

He ripped her hand away from her dripping pussy and slammed his cock into her, pumping through her orgasm and covering himself with the wetness he found there. He pulled out and climbed over her body, straddling her ribs and pushing her breasts around his cock. He was slick and wet from her pussy and slid easily against her smooth skin.

He looked down at the sight beneath him and found her looking back up at him, her eyes still clouded from her orgasm. He smirked at her, "Grab your tits." He told her as he reached for the bed head. She pressed her breasts together, encircling him as he rocked over her. The head of his cock hit her throat with each thrust, his heavy balls dragged across her skin. He gripped the bed head and moved faster, harder, grunting as he fucked her tits.

She moaned his name, over and over, and he felt her writhing beneath him as she chased another release. He thrust harder, watching the tip of his cock begin swell, as the pressure built in his sac.

"I'm gonna come all over your throat," he growled, "And your tits."

"Do it Draco. Come all over me!" She cried arching beneath him.

He felt the pull in his navel, and watched as jets of white liquid exploded from his cock and hit her throat and chin and breasts. He was breathing hard, but quickly slid down her body and settled between her thighs. He dove his head down, sucking and licking at her, knowing how close she was. A hoarse cry tore from her throat and she bucked against his face, her entire body spasming with her release.

He lay his head on her stomach, feeling the quick rise and fall of her breaths as she came down from her high. She carded her hand though his sweat soaked hair, and he looked up at her. She was a mess, covered in sweat and him and her milk. She was smiling down at him, looking content and completely spent. He moved up her body, and knowing that neither of them had the energy for another shower to clean up, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand and whispered _Scourgif_ y, instantly cleaning her.

"Thank you," she said.

His eyebrows winged up, "For what?"

"Fucking me like that," she cupped his face in her hands, "We haven't done that in so long. And I know you love it."

"I know you love it too." He replied, "You're okay though? I didn't hurt you?"

"No," she said, her eyes heavy and half closed, "You were perfect."

He shifted behind her, pulling her back against his chest, and curling around her, "So are you."

* * *

Sunday morning saw Draco in the kitchen preparing food for Sunday brunch. Hermione sat in the armchair by the window with Caelum in her arms and chatting with Scorpius, who was playing happily at her feet.

They had moved into their own house when Ara had arrived home over the summer. Hermione and Ara had been sad to leave Harry and Ginny's, but it was balanced out by their excitement at a home of their own. And Draco had surprised them, finding a house just three streets away from Grimmauld Place, walking distance, he told them, from their first home.

And it wasn't at all dissimilar from Grimmauld Place anyway. It had three floors, the top containing three bedrooms and a bathroom – Hermione already had her fingers crossed that all three children would eventually occupy it. The middle floor had their bedroom and bathroom, a guest room (that Scorpius currently occupied) and a large sitting room that had been converted temporarily into Caelum's nursery. Hermione had argued that it was easier to have them on the same floor, rather than climbing stairs at all ungodly hours of the morning.

And the ground floor was living space, with their kitchen, dining and lounge rooms all in one large, open space. And within days of moving in, Ara proclaimed that it felt exactly like home.

Draco noticed the wince on Hermione's face as their son suckled at her breast.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked crossing the room and squatting down beside her.

"Fine." She told him.

"Hermione." His tone was a mix of warning and concern.

Her cheeks flushed slightly and a small smile teased at her mouth, "Um, I'm, um...I'm just a little bit tender."

"Hermione! You said you were okay. I hurt you-"

Hermione pressed her finger to his lips silencing him, "Draco, its fine. _I'm_ fine. It's been a while since we've done that. This is all new, I just have to get used to it, that's all."

"But-"

"But nothing," she said, "I certainly wasn't complaining last night, or this morning. Neither were you."

He smirked at her, "No, I certainly wasn't. But you need to tell me if it's too much, yeah?"

"I promise," she said, "Because we're definitely going to be doing that again soon."

Draco laughed, "Indeed we will." He said and leaned in and kissed her.

"Really?" came a voice from behind them, "We have to see this first thing on Sunday morning?"

"Yes Potter, you do." Draco said as James and Albus ran past him, and threw themselves on the floor with Scorpius, the quiet room suddenly loud and full of energy.

Ginny flopped into the chair opposite Hermione, looking as exhausted as Hermione felt. Month-old Lily was cradled in her arms. "We really thought this was a good idea?" she said pointing between Caelum and Lily.

"I'm happy with the decision during the day," Hermione said, "Night time, not so much."

"I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that Granger," Pansy said with a laugh from the doorway.

Ginny pointed at her pregnant belly, "Yeah, we'll see if you're saying that in a few months."

It had become a regular occurrence, Sunday brunch at Draco and Hermione's. At first it had just been the four of them and the children, but Hermione had suggested that they invite Pansy and her husband Tom, and the pair had eagerly accepted and it had been a surprising success.

Eliza had fallen completely in love with Ara, and had been beyond consolable the first Sunday she had been missing when she had gone back to school. Pansy had also become enamoured with their daughter, loving her _no holds barred_ attitude and laughing at the fact that Draco had a mini version of himself to deal with – minus the spoiled, sullen side.

Hermione finished feeding Caelum and handed him to Pansy who sat in the armchair next to her, "I'm assuming you're going for another one?" Pansy said laughing at the look of horror on Hermione's face. "Sorry, I just assumed you'd want _one_ that looked like you."

Hermione shook her head, "No. I don't care. And I couldn't handle another one that doesn't sleep." She moved to stand, but Draco pointed at her.

"Sit," he said, "You're not doing anything today."

Ginny glanced at her, "He thinks I'm exhausted." Hermione told her.

"Hey, if he thinks that, take full advantage of it." Pansy told her.

"Well, if Hermione isn't helping, what can I do?" Tom asked and headed for the kitchen, where Harry had already started eyeing Draco's handiwork.

"See, we don't need your help," Draco said leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Fine," Hermione conceded and waved hand between herself, Ginny and Pansy, "Today we shall be princesses and maybe even next Sunday. And probably every Sunday after that. And you only have yourself to blame"

Draco kissed her again before moving back to the kitchen, a satisfied grin planted on his face.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Hermione, "He looks awfully happy with himself today. What did you do to him?"

Ginny laughed as Hermione's cheeks went pink, "Nothing...we just...um...oh, never mind."

Pansy giggled, "First time since Caelum? How was it?"

"Well, it was a twelve year break the first time," Hermione laughed at Pansy gasp of surprise, "And now I know I'm definitely _not_ going _two months_ without sex ever again."

"That good, huh?" Ginny asked.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, a smug grin crossing her face, "It's never been anything less than phenomenal."

Ginny sneered at her, "Shut up!"

"You asked!"

"Yeah, well, you don't have to be so smug about it."

"Jealous?" Hermione asked.

Ginny glanced at Harry, "A little, yes."

Hermione laughed, "I've heard your stories about Harry. I don't think you've got anything to be jealous of."

"And I've heard your stories about Draco, and I think I do." Ginny said, "Maybe he could give Harry some tips."

"In that case, I'll get Tom to talk to him too," Pansy said with wink.

Hermione held up her hand and Ginny laughed, "This conversation is over. I don't need them comparing notes."

Pansy shrugged, "How do you know they don't? We do."

"We can hear you over here. You know that, right?" Harry called to them, and they started laughing.

"And we don't compare notes," Draco said.

"Oh, you don't?" Tom said with a hint of a grin, "Must be just a muggle thing then."

Pansy laughed at the looks on Harry and Draco's faces at her muggle husband' use of the word _muggle_ , "Don't mind him, muggles are weird."

"Hey!" Hermione said slapping her leg playfully, "Watch it."

Pansy smiled sweetly at her, "You know I love you sweetie, it's just that muggles _are_ weird."

"Don't listen to her Hermione," Tom said, "We muggles are no more weird than these magical freaks."

"Hey!" all four of the magical freaks cried in unison and Hermione and Tom laughed.

"Muggle weirdness aside," Ginny mused, "I am quite enjoying this."

The three watched as the men in their lives busied themselves, pulling plates and cutlery from the cupboards and food from the fridge, placing everything on the table.

"If you would, princesses," Draco said with an exaggerated flourish, "The food's ready. Grab a seat."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Again, I'm beyond grateful for all the reviews, and much thanks for sticking with this. And as always, I appreciate the support and encouragement to keep writing.**

 **xx**


	20. Chapter 20

Boxing Day morning saw Draco and Ara curled together on the couch, coffee for Draco, tea for Ara. He loved every minute with each of his children, but since Ara was away at school for most of the year, a quiet morning on the couch with her was something he cherished.

Four month old Caelum was joining them and was curled against his chest. Any thoughts of sharing some 'Christmas cheer' with Hermione the previous night had been pushed aside by his infant son's restlessness, and he hadn't been able to help. Caelum just screamed louder when Draco tried to hold him; Hermione had been the only parent that the baby had wanted. But whatever it was that had been upsetting him during the night had calmed, and Draco, deciding to let an already sleep deprived Hermione stay in bed, fed his son a bottle three hours ago and he had been asleep ever since.

"Can we go to the Aquarium today?" Ara asked, "We haven't been in ages."

Draco smiled. Hermione had insisted that their children know as much about the muggle world as they would learn about the Wizarding one, and their daughter had become fascinated with the Aquarium in London. She was so fascinated that he was sure that she would give up any magical ambition and take on a career in the water.

"Well, I'm not sure. Today will probably be fairly insane there." He told her, "Maybe we could do it next week, before you head back to school."

She nodded thoughtfully and agreed, "Yeah, you're probably right. Can we go to Diagon Alley instead?"

"Awesome idea, we just have to wait for Mum and Scorp to wake up."

Ara groaned, "Scorpius won't be up until forever."

"It's still early chicken, he'll wake up soon." Draco had taken on Harry's nickname for her and as much as she protested about it, he knew she loved it.

"What about mum? She never sleeps this late."

"Mum's awake." Hermione said from the doorway.

"Morning mum!" Ara sung, the huge smile splitting her face quickly turning into a frown, "Wow! You look really tired."

"Morning baby," she leaned down and kissed the top of Ara's head, "I _am_ tired. Your brother's tummy ache kept me awake most of the night. "

" _Oh_ , poor baby boy," Ara said looking at her sleeping brother.

"Poor baby boy?" Hermione laughed, and pointed at her own face "Do you see how tired I am?"

"Yeah," Ara said, "But you're grown up, you're used to it. He's just a baby."

Hermione poked her in the ribs making her laugh and squirm. She turned to Draco, "How is he?"

"Nappy blow out at about six a-m," Draco told her, earning an _eeeww_ from Ara, "And after cleaning that mess up, he had a bottle and has been asleep since. And now Ara and I are just deciding what we should do today."

"Aquarium?" Hermione asked.

"No. Dad said it would be mental there today, so we're just going to Diagon Alley," Ara informed her.

Hermione knew her daughter loved the Alley. She never got to go there when she was small; Hermione's fears of her being seen always stopped her from taking her. So any time that Ara wanted go, Hermione happily accommodated her.

"Well, hopefully the sleeping bear won't stay sleeping for much longer. Maybe we can have lunch there as well."

"Awesome! Can I go wake him?"

"No!" Both Hermione and Draco exclaimed, and Ara laughed.

"Don't wake the bear, right?"

"That's not even funny, Miss," Draco said, playfully nudging his elbow into her ribs, "You do know how much fun we'd have with a grumpy bear."

"No fun?"

"Correct."

Scorpius had been lovingly referred to as their _grumpy bear,_ owing to the fact that he wasn't a morning person – even at only two years old. Hermione and Draco learned quickly not to wake him, but instead allowed him to wake of his own accord, or the result was a day of tired tantrums.

Hermione returned from the kitchen, with her own cup of coffee -decaf - looking longingly at Draco's coffee. She slumped down next to him, "Decaf sucks."

Draco snorted a laugh, "There's no pressure on you to keep feeding him, you know. He was fine with a bottle this morning, and that way I can help out more."

"You help out enough," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder, "But maybe you can just feed him in the mornings, I can do the rest."

He kissed her temple, "Happy to help."

Hermione placed a gentle hand on her sons back and Ara mirrored her movement, squishing herself into Draco's side "Group hug." She said, "We're just missing the grumpy bear!"

Caelum stirred, a slight whimper escaping him. They all held their breaths, hoping he'd settle back down, but to no avail. The small whimpers quickly turned into loud wails. Hermione sighed, taking him from Draco and shifting to the armchair to feed her son.

"Loud baby," Scorpius said, rubbing her eyes, still half asleep and looking adorably cute in his reindeer pyjamas with his hair all over the place. He was still unable to say Caelum, so had simply named him _baby._

"Hey, my boy. You're awake!" Draco held his arms out, and Scorpius crawled onto his lap. Draco reached one arm around him and the other around Ara, snuggling them both in close. "We're going to Diagon Alley today, do you want to come with us?"

Scorpius folded himself against Draco and told him, and mumbled a resolute, " _No."_

"Maybe we should wake up properly first." Draco leaned his cheek on top of his son's head, glancing at Hermione. She was smiling at him, at them. Draco winked at her, and she twisted her mouth into a smile and then blew him a kiss.

" _Eewww,_ stop making kissy faces, it's gross." Ara grumped, screwing her face up.

"I'll make all the kissy faces at your mum that I want," Draco mimicked her screwed up face, "And just remember, when you're all grown up and making kissy faces at a boy, I'll tell _you_ how gross it is."

"Nuh-uh, no way! Boys are yuck. They're even grosser than kissy faces!"

"Boys yuck." Scorpius added echoing his sister.

Draco threw his head back and laughed, "Yes...yes they are Scorp." He looked at Ara, "You need to listen to your brother, he is very wise."

Hermione listened as the conversation continued between Draco and Ara, while little Scorpius lay curled against Draco's chest, his eyes blinking slowly. She should have told Draco to take him back to bed, but she couldn't bring herself to disrupt the picture of perfection in front of her.

The two children may have looked alike, but they couldn't be more different. Ara, had grown even more confident, even more out-going and was a loud bundle of energy, who like Hermione was constantly asking questions and drinking in knowledge about the world around her. Scorpius was much quieter; thoughtful and reserved, shy and artistic, and happy to observe rather than join in. He and Draco had the same frown, the same quiet perseverance, and Hermione often found herself just watching them both and loving how alike they were.

Hermione never thought it was possible to love something, or someone, as much as she loved people right here in this room, but she did. She had missed her parents the day before, as she had always missed them at Christmas. And she knew that they would have loved to have been there to spoil their grandchildren, but the sadness hadn't been nearly as harsh. Narcissa had been with them, as had Harry and Ginny, and Molly and Arthur, and for the first time in years, she had felt that her parents' absence had been finally filled with the eclectic blend of people that were now her family.

She looked down at her baby son, another clone of Draco, and she felt the now familiar tug on her heart. Draco had tearfully thanked her on the day of Caelum's birth for giving him another perfect child, for giving him another piece of herself. Despite the stress of his early arrival, Draco had been in complete awe watching their son enter the world, having never been given the chance with Ara or Scorpius. It had been a long labour – almost fifteen hours – and he didn't leave her side. Not once. And when, just minutes after his birth Caelum was immediately rushed to the special care wing of St Mungo's, Draco had been torn between staying with her and going with their newborn son, but even in her exhausted post-birth state, she could sense his need to play protector to their tiny, fragile son.

So she had sent him with Caelum, telling him to stay with him for as long as he needed, that she would be fine, that she was in good hands. He had kissed her and told her how amazing she was, and followed the healer from the room.

And she would never forget the sight of him waking her several hours later, beaming at her as he gently handed their baby son to her and they finally met him together for the first time. He was wrapped tightly and looked tiny, and Draco had told her that regardless of the fact that the baby was early, he was perfectly healthy, just a whisker under six pounds with a perfect beating heart and lungs that were clear and breathing easily.

And she had felt the same flood of emotion that she had felt when her daughter was first handed to her. Only she hadn't felt alone. Draco was with her. Tears had shimmered in his eyes as he watched her hold Caelum, watched as she touched his lips and brushed finger across his cheek; watched as she pressed her nose to his forehead and breathed him in.

"Is this what it was like with Ara?" He had asked and she had held her hand out to him, pulling him to sit beside her on the bed.

"I loved her instantly and wanted nothing more than to have her near me all the time." She had said, and then shook her head slightly, her eyes never leaving her new son, "But, no. It wasn't like this, because you weren't there."

He'd wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, and had told her that he was there now and wasn't going anywhere.

"Hey, we need to get ready to go," Draco said, tapping Ara's leg and breaking into Hermione's day dream. Ara jumped up and headed for the door.

"No," Scorpius said. "Stay here."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile, "How about we stay home; you and mummy and Caelum?" And Scorpius nodded. He looked tired, the excitement of Christmas clearly having had an effect on him.

"No," Ara protested, "We all have to go."

"It's okay baby, he's tired and grumpy," Hermione said, "You go with dad and have a day with just him. I'll stay home with the boys."

"But that's not fair. You have to come." Ara whined and looked close to tears.

"Hey baby, come here," Hermione said gently and held out her hand. Ara crossed to her and took her outstretched hand. "I know you want me to come with you, and I know you think it's not fair for me to have stay home, but we won't have fun if Scorp's grumpy and tired. And it was yours and dad's idea to go anyway, so you two should go and have fun together. Just the two of you."

She nodded, not looking completely convinced, and looked at Draco.

He smiled brightly at her, "I get to spend the day with my favourite girl? I can't think of anything better."

Ara's nose crinkled, trying to hide the smile that was pulling at her mouth. Hermione knew that a day on her own with Draco was something her daughter would love, despite the protests. Ara shrugged, attempting a nonchalance that she couldn't quite pull off at twelve, "I guess that'd be okay."

"You guess?" Draco widened his eyes and pressed a hand to his chest, "I'm insulted."

"No you're not," Ara laughed and then looked at Scorpius, "Are you sure you want to stay home Scorp?"

He nodded and looked at Hermione, "Mummy?"

Hermione held out her arm, "Come and sit with us, sweetheart. I need a Scorpius cuddle."

Draco stood and placed him on Hermione's lap, "You okay with both of them?"

"I'm not going anywhere for a while," She told him smiling down at Caelum, his eyes closed, his little fingers opening and closing against her skin. She curled her arm around Scorpius, hugging him to her, "We'll all just stay here and have cuddles."

"Come on Dad," Ara said, "We need to get ready."

"Okay, okay." Draco said and followed her out of the room.

Hermione felt Scorpius grow heavy on her lap. She leaned her cheek to the top of his head and hummed quietly, knowing that he would be asleep in minutes. He'd had a busy Christmas day playing all day with James and Albus, and he had been in bed hours later than was his norm. She smiled as Scorpius reached out and held Caelum's foot, murmuring _baby,_ and closing his eyes.

She sighed and closed her own eyes, luxuriating in the prospect of a quiet day with her two boys. Her two boys. One she had given birth to, one she hadn't. But they were both hers. They had made it official, signing adoption papers just days before Christmas, with no resistance from Astoria whatsoever. Hermione had been surprised, expecting a fight from her or her family, but she had signed the papers relinquishing all rights to her son without a word, and Hermione was left to wonder what is was that Narcissa had said, or done, to make her so compliant. Because the more she got to know her, the more she realised just how protective Narcissa Malfoy was when it came to her family.

"Maybe Scorp _and_ you should go back to bed." Ara jolted her out of her thoughts.

Hermione opened her eyes and was startled. Ara was dressed simply in jeans and a pink hoodie, clutching her denim jacket in her hand, and she wondered if her daughter had found her own teenage closet.

Ara looked down at herself, "What?"

"Nothing baby." Hermione assured her, "You look gorgeous, and you're growing up way too fast."

"And I agree," Draco said from behind her and hugged her shoulders.

Ara's cheeks flushed pink, and Hermione laughed and told him, "Watch out for flying fists,"

He frowned, looking at her like she was insane, before he realised the connection and laughed. Ara looked between them and shook her head.

"You two are so weird."

"You mother was wearing a very similar outfit the day she hit me in the face," Draco explained and Ara burst out laughing.

"Can I do the same?"

"Cheeky," Draco poked her ribs and she jumped away from him. He took in his sleeping son, "Do you want me to put him back to bed?"

"Maybe just the couch," Hermione suggested, "Just put the blanket over him."

Draco nodded and gently prised Scorpius from her. He mumbled a sleepy, _no daddy_ , and Draco assured him that he was staying home with mummy and that daddy was just laying him on the couch. He covered him up and Scorpius instantly fell back to sleep.

"Say hello to Uncle George and Uncle Ron for me," Hermione said as Ara hugged her goodbye.

"How do you know we'll even see them?"

"Because I know you and you would never a miss a visit to the shop."

She looked at Draco, "Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?" Ara shot him a look and he laughed, "I like your Uncle's."

She raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, right."

He slipped his arms around her shoulders, "Well, I'm starting to like them. Are you ready?"

She nodded and Hermione asked, "Hats, coats, scarves?" and then laughed at the identical looks of annoyance on their faces.

" _Mu-um_ , we're not stupid. We'll get them on the way out," Ara huffed, and headed for the door.

"Draco," Hermione jerked her head to the side, beckoning him to come back.

He turned back to her, "Everything okay?"

"Perfect," she sighed, looking up at him, "Thank you."

"For what? For spending a day with my daughter?" He grinned and leaned down, kissing her forehead, and whispering, "I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?"

"Conned your daughter into thinking it was all her idea to spend the day with me."

"I have no idea what you mean," she gave him an innocent look, "This _was_ completely her idea."

"She's going to work you out one day, you know that?"

"And I'm enjoying the time before she does that." Hermione smiled up at him, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Thank you," She told him, "For our family."

"No need to thank me," he brushed his hand gently over his baby sons' soft, blonde hair, "We did this together, _we_ made our family." He leaned back in, capturing her mouth, kissing her.

" _Da-ad_." Ara hollered from the foyer, "Stop making kissy faces and hurry up!"

Draco laughed against her mouth, pulling back, breaking their kiss. He raised an eyebrow at her, "You're sure you still want to thank me?"

She pressed a hand to his chest, smiling. The life she had imagined that she would be living, the one where it would be just her and Ara, was a long distant memory. And her days of pining for him were long over. Her life was now the one she had only dared to dream of somewhere deep inside her head; three gorgeous children with the man she had loved since she first learned what true love was.

"I'll be thanking you always and forever."


	21. Chapter 21

My mum was seventeen when she had me, I told you that, right?

And I think I told you I didn't want to have any children at the same age. Don't worry, I didn't follow her footsteps. Not in that way at least.

I just finished my final year at Hogwarts, and like my mum, I was the top of my class. Not that I'm bragging or anything, my dad does enough of that for me.

And you may have guessed, life has changed dramatically since my father ran into us.

I now have two brothers.

And I now have a dad.

And I have a grandmother who loves me so fiercely, that I dare anyone to cross her.

And I know exactly why my mum couldn't tell me about my dad. He's told me the stories and he didn't hide anything. He told me about his own father - the grandfather I will never meet, the grandfather he never wants me to meet - and he told me about the Death Eaters. He told me about the fear he felt through the war, and the fear he felt when my mother disappeared from his life. He told me about how confused he was, and how hurt, but he also told me that he never truly stopped loving her.

And he had told me just how sorry he was that he wasn't in my life much earlier than he was. He blamed the muggle/pure-blood division, and told me that it was the only reason he hadn't been able to be with me and mum, that if it hadn't been for all that rubbish, he would have, without a doubt, been there when I came into the world.

But he didn't need to explain it to me, not really. And he certainly didn't have to apologise for something that was out of his control. I never hated him; I never knew him to hate him. What I hated was his upbringing, I hated what he went through during the war, and I hated that he couldn't be with my mum, but I never hated him. And I told him that as often as I could.

And Narcissa. My grandmother. She was brilliant. Once I managed to tear down that stone-cold exterior, I found a warm, kind and caring woman, who loved us all more than you could imagine. Even Mum. In fact, Dad often says how scary it is that they get along so well.

And, no. I didn't end up with Aaron Bates – much to Ginny's disgust. I'm sure she had hoped for some kind of fairytale of him not knowing who I was when I started school, but falling madly in love with me when I got older. But I had to explain to her that if it was a fairytale, Aaron would be just as interested in Prince Charming as I would be. But he went on to be the biggest Quidditch star since Viktor Krum.

Also much to Ginny's disgust – and Dad's and Harry's to be honest - like my mother, I couldn't fly a broomstick to save my life, but unlike her I did love Quidditch. And that was how I met Cameron Briggs – the Slytherin Seeker in my final two years.

Harry, Ginny and my dad all gave him hell the first time they met him - which was the previous summer - but he took it all in his stride. But he was a Slytherin, which made dad happy; he wanted to be an Auror, which made Harry happy; and he was brilliant at Quddiditch, which made Ginny happy.

And mum just liked him from the start. She told me had had _that_ look on his face when he watched me. And she didn't need to interrogate him; she just knew he was good people.

We've been together now for a year and a half, which feels like forever. But like mum says, if he _is_ my forever, a year and half is a mere heartbeat. And in case you were wondering, no, we haven't had sex. He knows my story and how hesitant I am when it comes to that, and fortunately for me he's happy to wait.

Yeah, I know; I got the good guy. I guess it just runs in the family.

* * *

"Hey," Mum said quietly as she poked her head through my bedroom door, "I wondered where they were."

I smiled at the two blonde-haired angels curled up in my bed. Scorpius was now six, and Caelum was four, and they hadn't left my side since I'd arrived home from school the previous day. They had been put in their own beds the previous night, but had clearly snuck in at some stage and were both still sound asleep.

I shifted carefully so as not to wake them, and slipped out of the warmth of my bed. And as much as I would have loved to have stayed and snuggled with them, I hadn't had a chance to talk to mum alone since I had gotten home.

Mum already had tea made for me – nothing has changed there, she's still looking after me.

A cupcake with a candle in it sat beside my mug. It was my birthday tradition. She's done it since I was two years old. Of course, the tradition had changed since I had been away at school for my birthday since I was eleven, so she had started doing it the morning after I would arrive back home.

I smiled at her as she sat down beside me. She picked up the cupcake and held it towards me, "Make a wish baby girl."

I closed my eyes and blew out the candle (my wish remains secret, it's bad luck to tell, you know), and she hugged me and kissed my cheek.

"Well, Miss seventeen-and-finished-school. What are your plans today?" Mum asked.

"Hmm, let me see," I hummed, "After I eat this sugar coated piece of heaven, I plan on taking over the world...or watching a movie and eating ice cream. Whichever takes the least amount of effort."

"I will help in which ever you decide to do." She laughed.

"And so will I," Dad said from behind us. He was carrying my baby sister, Indus, who had was almost two and was not quite sure of who I was.

Yeah, they had another one.

And she looked exactly like mum. But she was like Scorpius; a perfect angel. So quiet and shy, and except for the occasional quiet whisper of _mum_ or _dad,_ you hardly knew she was even there.

I laughed when they told me. Mum had been insistent on not having anymore, and I asked Dad exactly what it was that he had promised her if she did. He'd winked at me and told me that all he'd had to do was promise to be her slave for the rest of his life.

I smiled at her, and tapped my fingers on the table in front her when Dad sat opposite me. She pressed back into him, but smiled back at me and giggled.

"You've almost got her. One more day,' Dad said, "And you'll have the three of them in your bed."

I smirked, "Better them than Cameron, right?"

Mum clapped her hand across her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the look of horror on Dad's face. I shrugged one shoulder, "I mean, I'm seventeen now, and that's when you two made me."

Dad covered Indi's ears, "Don't listen to any of this, little one, your sister is mental and says crazy things because she was raised mostly by your mother."

"Hey!" Mum cried and reached over to get Indi's attention, "Don't you listen to your daddy, precious girl; your big sister was raised perfectly."

And this was them. They were a true mix of fun and seriousness; of laughter and tears; of joy and sadness; and of complete and unconditional love.

They'd had a crappy start to their relationship. It had been unfair and unjust that they couldn't be together. But when I watch them now, I know that in the end, nothing would have stopped them from being together. Ginny hadn't realised that the fairytale she so craved had played out right in front of her without her even realising it. Mum was far from a Princess, and Dad was no Prince Charming, but they got their happy ending; were _living_ their happy ending.

And I hope that I have that. If it's with Cameron – and I hope that it is – I'll be more than happy to be exactly like them.

And when you think about it, what it really came down to in the end is that they were meant to be.

It was as simple as that.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I would like to thank each and every one of you that has read this. I always appreciate the support and encouragement, and while the majority of my stories are written in completion in my head, the tiny sparks and ideas that are shared by you all, are a great motivation and keep me going when I can't seem to get the words out.**

 **I hope this met your expectations.**

 **Until the next adventure xx**


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